Figure It Out, Football Head - A Hey Arnold Fanfic
by RetrogradeEntropy
Summary: The cast is now in their sophomore year of high school, and Arnold and Helga are interacting for the first time in years. Now that everything is different, the two try to figure out how to bond and maybe even make something of their relationship. She pushes back, but Arnold is determined to get to know the real Helga. Alternating Arnold/Helga POV. AxH. Rated T for language/themes
1. Talking to a Stranger

**This is, effectively, my first HA published fan fiction. I hope you like it. Intending to finish this story soon!**

 **Please leave a review! Thank you!**

* * *

It was Monday afternoon. Gerald had broken his arm in a biking accident and his parents had planned to keep him out of school for about a week so he could recover easier. With him gone, Arnold found himself wandering around the school during the break period looking for something to keep him occupied. At first, he would join in on the activities of other kids, like Stinky and Sid, who would typically spend their time doing things like racing bugs they had found in the bushes behind the school or writing bad jokes on scraps of paper and slipping them into lockers. But after Stinky offered him a hotbox session in his car, Arnold declined and meandered away, getting lost in his own head.

He had forgotten what respite it could be to be alone with ones thoughts. It didn't happen much anymore. His social life demanded what spare time he had. Advanced Placement classes were stealing most of his energy this year, and though he was happy to have the opportunity to learn a little more, the workload was substantial. Going home every day to an active boarding house with family who needed him for various errands on top of four or more hours of homework each night was taking a bit of a toll on his mental well-being.

Some personal downtime was well-deserved.

Arnold roamed past the front office and out the front doors of the building. The grassy lawn of the high school building was occupied by clusters of lounging kids. A few were studying. Others were flirting. Harold was busy demanding Rhonda's food in exchange for the pencil she borrowed two days ago, a proposition to which she was protesting. Arnold was famous for interjecting himself into other peoples' conflicts in order to offer his own advice, but today, he passed them up to walk along the wall left of the main doors. The day was cool but windy, and so he sought a place with a barrier to block the chill that came from the east.

He rounded the corner of the building to find a bench facing the street, occupied by none other than Helga, who paid him no notice.

Arnold reflexively paused. Years of being conditioned to remain out of the path of the human steamroller that was Helga G. Pataki have left their mark on Arnold's behavior. Though more recently, he recalled, Helga had matured past the recklessly aggressive little girl he had known for so long. She was still as confident in herself as ever, but she had lost that brassy bitterness that she was so well-known for. Her spiteful comebacks were replaced with witty, clever remarks that you wouldn't notice as insults unless you were sharp enough. While her attitude had mellowed considerably, Helga had somehow grown even more intimidating by becoming quieter and more deliberate of speech.

That is, at least, what he had heard from others. They didn't talk too much these days.

She was no longer clad in pink dresses and bows since she began choosing her own wardrobe. She was, however, wearing a pink backwards baseball cap, a skirt, and a sweatshirt, which Arnold preferred over the excessively pink and deceivingly cutesy get-up.

Wishing to pass but not wishing to be rude, Arnold waved upon his approach.

"Hi, Helga."

She remained facing the street, unresponsive. It was only then that he noticed she was wearing headphones, and that the music from her CD player was too loud for her to hear him.

Arnold decided to continue walking anyway. As he was about to pass, he glanced down to notice the cover of the CD Helga was listening to.

He stopped his stride in front of her upon recognizing the name of the album. She looked up at Arnold inquiringly, giving him a blank look.

"You… you like Public Enemy, Helga?" Arnold asks.

She slid off her headphones. "What?"

"I asked... do you like Public Enemy?" He pointed to the CD case on the bench beside of her.

She stared back for a moment. Then replied, "… Sure, football head. They're pretty good."

"They're my favorite East Coast group."

Helga did a raspy impression of one of the rappers, "Yeaaaaahh, boooyy."

Arnold chuckled. "I, uh… didn't know you liked 80's hip-hop. That's pretty neat."

She gave a nod and pretended to be distracted by something across the street. She seemed to be out of things to say. The prospect of sharing one of his most esoteric interests (no one in his school was quite as engrossed in the world of music as he was, nor possessed the knowledge base) overcame his reservations for conversing with Helga. Arnold fished into his jacket pocket for something.

"Hey… I have a headphone splitter. Could I… maybe…?" He pauses.

"Join me?" She raises her brow. "I dunno, Arnoldo. I've got an image to uphold, y'know. Sitting here, looking cool and self-obsessed. You might impede my efforts."

"Um. That's fine… I'll just- "

"Sit down, I guess. Don't worry, football head, I can start the CD over. It's _It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back_ , in case you didn't know." Helga moved over to make room.

Arnold continued standing for a moment, then sat tentatively beside her and plugged the splitter into the audio jack. "Oh, I totally know." He grabbed his own headphones out of his backpack and plugged those into the splitter. Helga attached hers as well.

This was really strange. Helga hit play and Arnold felt the raging lyrical passion of two rappers hyped up on the controversy of the time blast his ears. The audio quality would have been much better on his own sound system, but this was enough for him. Normally, the Helga Pataki he was familiar with would've made every effort to avoid such a seemingly friendly interaction with Arnold. Though, Arnold supposed they hadn't actually interacted properly in some time. For almost three years now, their interests and classes have kept them relatively apart, save for passing each other in the halls or Gerald tugging Arnold along to say hi to Phoebe, who was usually within arm's reach of Helga. He couldn't recall if their last actual conversation had even been civil.

Arnold kept facing forward purposely, limiting his awareness to the CD and that which was in front of him. He didn't want to upset this bizarre situation by making eye contact with Helga at a bad time. After a few moments, he allowed a shift in his vision so he could just see Helga in his peripherals. She wasn't paying him any attention. By the second track, he had lost himself in the music. The world didn't seem to continue on outside of his headphones. He sat totally still.

Time passed. Arnold continued in this state until the school bell cut through the sounds. He removed his headphones and turned at last to look at Helga. But she had already unhooked her CD player from his splitter, stuffed it all in her bag, and slung the bag over her shoulder to leave.

"Gotta go." was all she said.

* * *

For the days Gerald was gone, Arnold revisited Helga's bench where, it turned out, she spent every free period (despite having a readily available group of friends) listening to a meager collection of CDs by herself. Being the audiophile that he was, Arnold brought some from his own collection that he thought she might try.

"Jazz fusion?" Helga queried in a haughty tone. "What exactly is it fused with?"

"You can fuse it with lots of things. At first it was just rock, but you can use just about anything now."

"Strange." She glanced at Arnold as he popped the disk in. "Who's the artist?"

"Miles Davis. He's a jazz legend! You must know him."

She twirled her hand absentmindedly. "Y'know, not really. But since you're the music snob here, I suppose I can trust your judgement." She gave a barely detectable smile.

Arnold suddenly felt self-conscious. This might be the most sociable she has ever been toward him. He hit play and privately noted any visible reactions Helga had to the CD. She made a few faces in the beginning, but settled into it eventually. She even tapped her foot to a few tracks.

Things continued in this manner for the next few days. The two quietly shared each other's company whilst the other kids ran about and socialized. At more than one point, Arnold pulled out some light homework he desperately needed to finish. Helga observed this but did not comment on it, for which he was a little grateful.

* * *

It was Friday. Gerald would be allowed to come back to school next week. Arnold had been stopping by his house to see him on the way home from school every day, as well as deliver his homework. The parents didn't appear to be home when he entered the Johansson residence.

Timberly tackled him upon arrival. "Arnold!" Her weight was not enough to push him over. She was leaping for his hat.

"Can I borrow your tiny hat? Please?" she begged. "It's so small! It'll fit perfectly on my Mr. Bear toy!"

Arnold wrestled her off of him easily and lifted her up out of reach of his head. "No way, Timberly. This hat must never leave me. It's the only thing holding my super small brain."

She squealed. "Oh, now you gotta give it to me!"

"Timberly! Get your paws off my guest!" Gerald called from the living room. "And come in here and pick up your mess! Momma told you!"

The little sister ran ahead of Arnold into the doorway. Gerald was reclining on the sofa with his cast resting on the sofa's arm, watching the television. Timberly had scattered an assortment of toys across the carpeted floor, and she was now gathering them and carrying them halfway to her room before scattering them again.

"Hey, man!" Gerald greeted him. "Sorry about the welcome wagon. Mom and Dad are out for the night so they can't control her. Jamie O sure ain't gonna do it."

"It's cool, dude." He smiled at his buddy. Arnold never minded the chaos of the nuclear family that Gerald was blessed with. He really liked the idea of having siblings. He almost felt like Gerald's were his when he was over sometimes.

"I swear, I am getting some crazy cabin fever stuck in here. Can't go out and play ball. Can't do anything in the house except lay around like this. Folks don't want me stressing any important body parts while I heal."

"I can see that. They're just worried, you know?" Arnold dug out Gerald's homework from his back pack and handed it to him.

"I guess." Gerald sighed and snatched up the papers. "It's really getting to me, though. Please give me some insight into what all is happening in the real world."

Arnold paused. "Well, you might find this interesting." This got Gerald to raise an eyebrow. Arnold plopped down on the couch beside him.

"The, uh… water fountain broke again and flooded the science hall with an inch of water."

"Is that literally your highlight of the week? Dang, things are getting' dull around here. I mean, by comparison. That stuff might fly in another district, but remember when the entire first floor of P.S. 118 flooded and we had to be rescued by your grandpa in a boat?

Arnold nodded. "Yeah, that was pretty incredible."

"That's what I'm talking about, dude. Suspense and all that."

"There _is_ something else that's happened since you've been out."

"Spill it for me." Gerald coaxed as he flipped through the T.V. channels.

"I, uh… I've been spending a lot of time with Helga during break period."

"…"

"…"

"Dude, what?"

"I know."

"No, like, doesn't she hate you, though?"

Arnold shrugged. "Not anymore, I guess. She's seems a little more grown up. She's had some time to change."

"What do you guys even do?"

"We listen to CDs. I've been showing her my favorite jazz albums."

"How do you make conversation?"

"We don't talk a whole lot, actually. Just… share music and stuff."

Gerald threw his good arm up in the air. "This is pretty weird, but okay!"

"It's not that bad. And I really need the quiet time. Just no one talking. It's kinda nice. It's hard to find someone you can share a comfortable silence with."

"It doesn't seem like it would be all that comfortable."

Arnold sighed. "Well, if it's okay with you, I'd like to keep hanging with her after lunch. I know you and I usually chill then, but-"

"Dude, it's okay. I'm gonna let you explore this weird social tangent. You just tell me how it goes."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, man. It might be worth it if she's actually becoming a decent person."

"Okay, cool. Because I think she might, y'know?"

"Whatever floats your boat, kid." Gerald resigned. He met Arnold's hand with one of their signature handshakes.

Arnold changed the subject. "What's on the T.V.?"

"The new Pop Daddy reboot. It's not bad, actually. But I feel as though they aren't catering to the fans of the original as much as they could be. I mean, you already have a loyal fanbase. You shouldn't try to re-hash what was already good."

They shared an hour or two of Pop Daddy before Jamie O came downstairs and took the remote from them, at which point Arnold decided to head home for dinner and his Statistics worksheets.

* * *

Arnold approached the bench like he had for the past few days. Helga was there, lounging, and maybe looking cheerier than average.

He dropped his bag and hopped onto the seat. "Hey, Helga. Did you get to sign Gerald's cast yet?"

"Uh… not yet. But I brought a CD I thought you might wanna hear."

"Hey, can I ask you something fir-"

She pulled a case out of her bag. "It's by a group called Earth, Wind, & Fire. A friend let me borrow it."

"Whoa." Arnold recognized the band and gaped. "I would… really like to listen to that."

"Then let's do it." She snapped it into the player.

"Hey, wait." He placed his hand preemptively on the CD player she was holding. "We're here every day at school together, and I really like meeting you here. But I also feel like I should know more about what goes on with you by now. We haven't really caught up or interacted at length since the 6th grade. Would you like to do that?"

Helga's eyes were wide, staring back at his. Arnold couldn't tell if she just didn't expect him to bring this up or if she had been trying to avoid a conversation like this. Either way, he was hoping she'd allow it.

"You mean… catch up? On, what? Life and stuff?"

He nodded. "Yeah, absolutely."

"I don't know… I don't sit on the bench during break to talk. If I wanted to talk, you'd see me elsewhere. You know. Talking to people."

"Please, Helga. I know it's a little out of the ordinary for you, but it would really mean a lot to me if we did discuss things."

Helga folded her arms and regarded the boy sitting next to her. It wasn't a cold stare, but it was the sort of stare people gave you when they didn't really want you around anymore. Arnold was uneasy and almost regretted bringing anything up. He was about to say so when the look faded, and was replaced with a weary expression. She slouched and averted her eyes.

"Are you okay with that?" He asked, out of genuine concern.

Helga reclined and folded her arms behind her head. "Well, I'm not really sure where to start you off... bucko." She smirked. "Four whole years of our adolescent lives. Why, it's been ages. Not even sure where to begin."

Arnold wasn't really sure what he was getting into.

She continued, without the playful sarcasm. "My father's beeper company went under a while ago before he could sell it off, what with "text messaging" becoming a thing now. A couple million in the hole, he took a job working for a telecommunications company. Ironic, huh?

"Mom's had to pick up the slack too. She recently took a job waitressing at that one fifties-themed diner on 34th Street, and that's going about as well as you would imagine. So, coming home to an empty house every evening while the parents are still working has pushed me to find social outlets elsewhere, such as school, where I've carefully assembled a small but competent group of female friends who respect me and follow my lead. The emotional and political security that this cabinet of advisors affords me is what I assume to be the root of my newfound level-headedness."

Arnold cocked his head. "Political security?"

She looked over to him. "I've held the position of student body Vice President for three terms now, uncontested. That's not unrelated."

He lowered his gaze. "Oh."

"Well." Helga sighed. "I guess that about gets you up to speed. Oh, and my sister Olga took a job in Vancouver and only flies in twice a year, so that's nice. Life's a dream."

Arnold wasn't quite sure how to feel. He preferred this new Helga to the old one. Well, at least he was pretty sure he did. And her family life had never been very functional. But to lack one altogether wasn't something he could imagine, having a rather large, though extended, family himself.

"So…?" Helga pressed.

"What?"

"What about yourself?"

Arnold started. "Oh. Um… Not much is different at the boarding house, really. My grandpa had to make one of the more dishonest boarders leave. We've got a new lady, Mrs. Cammish. She… collects porcelain clowns, which makes visiting her really unfun. But other than that, she's pretty awesome."

"Euugh." She shuddered.

"Yeah. But besides all that… it's really not that different."

"Good to know that everything's standard, football head. I didn't really expect things to change on that front."

"I'm really sorry about your dad's company."

She waved it off. "Don't worry about it. It was bound to happen one way or another, but technology got to him first. And it may have been for the best."

Arnold wasn't sure how to respond. He had always known of Helga's softer personality hidden underneath her prickly exterior, but this was the most willful baring of that vulnerable side he'd ever witnessed.

"Helga… you know, we've never had interactions like this before."

"What do you mean?"

Arnold fidgeted. "I'm still used to the name calling and the... various other abuses. I mean, you seemed to dislike most people, but a fair amount of that dislike was targeted toward me."

"…"

"Now, you're just so… chilled out. It's kind of new to me."

Helga only stared at him.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to point it out or anything."

"But you have."

Arnold panicked a little inside. "I-I... forget I said anything…"

She chuckled softly. "It's fine, I'm just giving you a hard time." Arnold thought about this and didn't feel as though this could be considered a hard time in the context of everything Helga's ever said to him.

"I guess you have a reason to be confused or whatever. But it's not that big of a deal. People naturally change and develop. And I'm a person, so that's going to happen. I'm not such a little girl anymore. And you're not such a little boy."

Arnold's felt his cheeks flush mildly. "So, uh…" He turned away, hoping it wasn't visible. "Can I ask what it was about me that made you hate me so much?"

"I… didn't hate you. Well… I kinda did. In a way." Now it was Helga who appeared uncomfortable. "Look, we should talk about this later. Now's not the best time."

"It's cool. We can talk about it when you're ready."

"Maybe." She glanced over his shoulder at something that had caught her attention. "I'm gonna have to cut this short. Sorry. It looks like I'm needed."

Arnold turned his head to see a group of girls waving for Helga's attention. They appeared to be selling pre-packaged snacks to a small crowd for a fundraiser.

"Nothing personal. It's just business. Here." She handed him the CD case. "Listen to it today and tell me what you think later."

Arnold took it from her and gave a wide grin. "I'll try to have it finished today. And... uh... Helga?"

"Hm?" She stood and stretched her arms.

"I really appreciated you opening up to me. And I like talking to you. Maybe we should hang out sometime."

Helga paused mid-stretch to stare at Arnold. It didn't appear as though she was prepared for a response this positive to spending time with her. She lowered her arms but didn't seem to know what to do with them.

"I... uh... sure."

She quickly slid her bag over her shoulder and walked away from their bench. As she left, Arnold reflected on their exchanges. Now that every sentence wasn't punctuated with a malicious jab at his hair or head shape, Arnold couldn't help but find Helga… _interesting_. And far less weird. He had been noticing things about her that he had never considered before. Helga was an intelligent and confident girl. Most boys he knew wouldn't use the word attractive, but there was a certain something about her. He could bring himself to admit that Helga was pretty, in her own way. Even… developed. In the way that females eventually are. Arnold wasn't really sure how to feel.

He produced his own CD player, popped in the disk, and pressed play.


	2. Girl Gang

**Second chapter, here we go! Also, thank you for reading! :)**

* * *

Helga plodded her way over to her beckoning friend group. She tried to put her and Arnold's interaction out of her mind for now. She would feel feelings in confidence later. Right now, it was time to bottle them up and betray nothing, as she was so well practiced in doing.

Her friend group consisted of four other girls. Phoebe had always been there for her, of course. She was inexplicably loyal to the end, the brains of the group, and her most trusted companion. Alongside her, there stood two upperclassmen girls, Cordelia and Tyler, and one freshmen who had been thrust ahead a grade, Sam.

Cordelia was lanky and gorgeous with thick, ginger hair. On the outside, she appeared the stereotypical preppy girlfriend of the quarterback. After talking, however, Helga found her to be manipulative, conniving, and a get-rich-quick genius. She was highly aware of how people perceived her, and used this to her advantage. Helga admired Cordelia's way of thinking, and Cordelia turned out to admire Helga, as well. They once went in on a deal with the vending-machine loader together to upcharge the drinks and split the profits. They made $150 in a day.

Tyler was a small but boisterous, dark-skinned tomboy who only ever wore shorts or leggings as pants. An aggressive social butterfly, she had all of the important connections in the freshmen, sophomore, and junior class. She was at every party and was a member of half of the school's clubs. If they ever needed information, favors, or access to a social event, Tyler was usually the one to get it done.

Sam was more akin to a rescue puppy that an asset. She was labelled a "gifted" child in elementary school and was pushed ahead a few grades. Now that they had reached high school, her peers had caught up to her intellectual level, and Sam had levelled out into average. She took it hard. Helga and Phoebe had reached out to her back in middle school, and the shy kid had been at their heels ever since. Sam rarely spoke and would only communicate via text, which led to awkward group messages in the middle of discussions on subjects that had ended fifteen seconds before. They learned to find it endearing, for the most part.

Helga was the politically-minded one of the group. The strategist. Perhaps even the leader. She was the most intimidating and agenda-driven of all of them. It could be supposed that she was the quietly angry glue that kept this eclectic group of girls together.

She made a note to herself to find a brawny addition to the gang. They could rent out the services of Big Patty on occasion, but it would be nice not to have to outsource the messier parts of their operations.

The group was standing beside an oak tree amid collections of conversing students. They had a few stacks of boxes full of the foods they were trying to sell. A few kids were just leaving with their purchases when Helga approached.

"You guys know I spend break period by myself. Just text me if you need something."

Cordelia sat down cross-legged on the grass and gave a half-lidded smile. "We just missed you is all."

Phoebe chimed in. "We're very sorry, Helga. But we didn't think this problem could wait until the next time we were all together."

"Damn, girl, was that you with that Arnold kid?" Tyler nudged Helga's arm. " I haven't been out here in a while, so I ain't seen you two together. That's pretty cute."

"Don't get the wrong idea, Ty." Helga warned, scowling. "You know how he is. Likes to be nice to people. Tries to get them to open up. Solve their problems and whatnot."

Phoebe tugged Tyler's sleeve, "You must also never mention this to other people. And if someone approaches you about it, say that you don't know what they're talking about and act surprised. That's one of the rules."

Tyler sighed. "Alright, alright. Ya'll are no fun. _Forgetting_."

"Anyway," Cordelia snuck out her cigarettes and lit one, taking a long drag. "We were wondering what you thought of this: Our usual sales have gone down despite the price drops. Tyler is pretty sure it's because the potheads' secret safe place got found out yesterday and they had to start blazing off-campus. They do this mostly during break. So, like, right now,"

"Soon, they'll return and beg everyone they know for food." Phoebe said. "The problem is, the school prohibits sales of anything by students after the last lunch period, which is also going on right now. Fundraiser or otherwise."

Helga felt her phone buzz in her jacket pocket. She flipped it open to find a text from Sam.

 _did u get to show arnlod the cd yet? i really need it back soon. its my bros and hell kill me if he finds out_

She glanced around to find Sam, who was examining her from the shadows and operating the cash box. She quickly tapped out a reply.

 _I let him borrow it for a while. Hope that's okay. I'll get it back tomorrow, promise. ;p_

"Okay, let me think." Helga sighed. "Does Principle Snubs really enforce this rule?"

"Hell yeah, he does." Tyler interjected. "He stopped Cordelia's high-powered lighter sale she used to offer in 7th period."

Cordelia blew a jet of smoke that obscured her face. "I'm not sure the time of day had much to do with the lighters being confiscated."

"Not the best example," said Phoebe. "But yes, it is a known rule."

Another buzz.

 _oh…..… wellll thats fine i think. you always have a good reasn for doing things Helga :))))))_

Tapping.

 _You're the best, Sam. And don't tell anyone!_

Then Helga had a thought.

"Okay, big deal. So we can't sell anything after lunch. That doesn't mean we can't get hungry potheads their snacks. Here's what we'll do:

"During the morning sales, you guys will discreetly inform our trusted usuals that they can acquire food after the lunch period by purchasing it from us in advance. And I say discreetly so you guys are careful not to tell anyone who likes to snitch. If kids don't want to have to hang on to the food all day, we can take the order, make the usual record of it, and get it out when they come to collect later. They won't be able to impulse-buy if they have the munchies, so it's a little less effective, but at least it keeps the market open all day."

"Why can't we just sell it in secret in the afternoon?" Tyler huffed.

"Because this is still technically a school fundraiser." Phoebe informed. "They bought the food outright and we're selling it for a slightly higher price. The profits go back to the school, so it should really be on their terms."

Helga agreed. "Exactly. If this was our operation, I would say go for it. But we're only doing this to show faculty and tailored yuppies that we're capable of getting shit done. We want people to remember that these bitches right here funded the entire Spring Dance."

Tyler gave an agreeable head bob and bounced a little on her feet. "Hell yeah. Okay, sounds good to me, H."

Cordelia stood and dropped her cigarette on the ground, putting it out with her heel. "You know, it might help our situation too if the snack machine outside the gym 'malfunctioned.'"

"Go for it." she approved. Helga delighted in Cordelia's underhandedness. Phoebe, however, took note of this endorsement and shot Helga a troubled look.

"Don't worry, Pheebs. Cord never leaves a trail."

"It's not that, Helga, it's-"

The school bell sounded, causing Sam to jump from her sitting position. She scurried over to the boxes of snacks and began piling them up to carry.

The noise level picked up as kids began to file back into the school. Ty thumped Helga's shoulder. "Hey. Did that kid Eugene ever finish my World Civ. paper?"

Helga flashed Tyler a look of warning and glanced in Phoebe's direction. She wasn't supposed to mention it in front of Phoebe. Nevertheless, she answered, "He should be handing it to you in ten minutes. If he doesn't, text me. I'll have it fixed."

"Nice." The two shared a high-five. Tyler made a point to high-five everyone in the group just before they parted ways. Phoebe received hers before Tyler and Cordelia headed to their class together, with Sam trailing behind, hauling the cash box and a load of snacks.

The others gone, Helga felt that now was a good time to start feeling feelings again.

"Phoebe, if I could speak with you privately. At _your_ locker." Helga spoke an urgent and hushed tone and began walking her forward urgently, with a hand on her back.

Phoebe was alarmed. "Helga, what is the problem?"

"We can talk there. Pick up the pace, Pheebs."

Phoebe's locker was at very end of the most remote passageway in the school building. She often lamented this state of affairs and just stash her books in Helga's more central locker. Using her own locker in between every period usually meant that she would be late to her distant classes unless she ran there.

However, for situations like these, when Helga was desperate for a confidential discussion, Phoebe's locker was the only place in the hallways that wasn't absolutely bustling with other people. Normally, she would keep developments like these to herself. But she was in dire need of some advice from her most trusted friend.

Helga shoved through the chattering throng of teens with Phoebe in tow until they arrived at the empty space by her locker.

Phoebe snatched her hand away. "Okay, now we're here. Please tell me what's going on."

"Open your locker door so it looks like we have a reason to be here."

Phoebe complied and opened her locker. "Oh wow... I forgot this was in here."

She retrieved a comically oversized pink eraser that read in large type on the face, "FOR BIG MISTAKES."

Helga slumped against the wall of locker doors. "Oh, Pheebs. I don't even understand. It's as if the universe has conspired against me, waiting for the perfect moment to finally deliver what I've always wanted just when I've stopped caring so much about having it."

"Helga, you can just tell me outright. I am your friend."

"But why deprive me of my dramatic monologue? You know my need to perform."

Phoebe smiled and rolled her eyes. "Okay... but don't take forever. We both have classes to run to."

"No, I am gonna be serious now. Phoebe, it's about _ice cream._ "

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Oh? But don't you two hardly even speak, even when sitting together?"

"Not today, we didn't. _He_ started asking me about my life, what's been happening since middle school, and even asked why I teased him so much. And he brought it all up by himself! I even tried to change topics. "

"It just sounds like Arnold was being curious and good-natured, Helga."

"That's not it! After we caught up and everything, he suggested that we 'hang out' sometime and that he 'liked talking to me'. Like he was expressing some sort of social interest in me."

"That's good!"

Helga grabbed Phoebe by the shoulders. "Is it? Phoebe, I stopped thinking about this boy a long time ago. I gave it up, wrote it off as a lost cause. Mostly because I had actually established myself in the social caste system of public school and couldn't run off to engage in theatrics and swoon over a picture in a locket all the time. I had more important things to do! But after I stopped, after I had finally distanced myself from the object of my obsession and make a point to divert all my attention from him, after so long, HE approaches ME and wants to 'hang out'? Does this mean that all I ever had to do to get him to notice me was to ignore him for years?!"

Phoebe's concerned gaze filled Helga with appreciation for her small friend. She was breathless from ranting, and felt as though maybe she was raising her voice a little too loud. That didn't worry her too much, though.

"Well... how do you feel about him now?" Phoebe inquired.

"I... I... I can't answer that. Because I don't know."

Phoebe took Helga's hands off her shoulders and clasped them. "Helga, you could easily cut ice cream off like you have so many times before and prevent any bond from forming. But you've never really wanted that, right?"

Helga nodded solemnly.

"So what I advise you to do is to try and see where this goes. Just let him talk to you. And talk back if you feel like it. You'll realize whether you like or don't like him. But you have to give it a shot."

"So, just... take him up on his offer?"

"Yes!"

"I don't know..."

"Please, Helga? I feel like this will be good for you. And if things don't work out, it'll at least be closure. An ending or beginning on your own terms."

Phoebe was wise beyond her years, Helga thought. They had actually become very close throughout high school. The relationship had developed beyond the one-sided abuse as they matured, and now it was beneficial for both of them. At least, Helga hoped so. Phoebe excelled so far in rationality and knowledge and had such a promising future that Helga felt overshadowed at times. Not that she was jealous. But it did make her wonder what the girl thought she was gaining from such a friendship. She hoped that Phoebe couldn't yet discern this insecurity.

"I… could try that, I guess."

"Good!"

"But I'm not going to initiate anything. He's gonna have to come to me."

"I'm certain that won't be a problem. But.. uh..."

"What is it?"

"Well, there's one other thing you could do that I'm sure would ease the uh... situation, I guess you would call it. I just don't know how you're going to take it."

"Just tell me."

Phoebe released Helga's hands to fidget with her own. "Well, wouldn't you say it's obvious that Arnold is rather upstanding with good morals and acts appropriately on those morals?"

"... Sure, yeah."

"And wouldn't you agree that he values people who are likewise principled and upstanding?"

"Your point?"

"I'm just suggesting, Helga, that, well... You can be a little rough or negligent to kids who don't have the power you do. I see the way you and the other girls use Sam as a servant more than you see her as a member of the group. And the way you guys always get what you want out of little guys like Eugene. I just don't see Arnold being okay with some of these things."

Helga crossed her arms and remained silent for a moment.

"Please don't be upset with me."

"I'm not. Why would I be?"

"I just didn't want to sound like I was asking you to change."

Helga stifled a laugh. "I wouldn't have changed anyway, Pheebs. But I, uh... see what you mean."

"Oh, I'm glad." Phoebe looked relieved.

"And I suppose you didn't just ask this because you thought it would help Arn... ice cream like me more."

Phoebe looked away for a moment before nodding.

Helga ruffled the girl's cute bob. "Don't worry, kid. I'm not turning evil or anything."

"I'm _your_ age, 'kid'"

"Shorter, though. And I'll lighten up, per your request."

"You promise?"

"You got it." Helga gave a corny thumbs up.

Phoebe looked the most pleased Helga thought she'd ever seen.

"Oh! We'll probably be late to Chem if we don't go now."

"Across the building? I was hoping you'd skip with me after this."

"Not on your life!" Phoebe chimed in a sing-song voice before hurrying off ahead of Helga, who followed at a less enthusiastic pace.

"I don't know why I expected any different."

Chemistry was probably Phoebe's favorite class, and Helga's least favorite. And while she was managing a B+ (due mostly to Phoebe), the subject matter wasn't the only thing bugging her. Phoebe and Helga shared a table, and Gerald sat at the end of the next table over, adjacent to his obvious object of interest. Regrettably, they were not far away enough from Helga so that she couldn't overhear their exchanges. It was enough to make her nauseous at times.

This time, they were getting a little friendlier that usual. Gerald had even pulled his chair up to their table, and that, frankly, was where Helga drew the line.

"Hey. You with the hair. When do you reckon my lab partner's schedule has an empty slot? Sometime this period?" She chided.

Gerald turned his attention to Helga. "Damn, Pataki, we were just _talking_."

"Sorry about that." She gestured to the table. "All of these worksheets in front of me gave me the impression that we had work to do."

Gerald glowered and opened his mouth to retort, but not before the teacher started speaking.

"Class!" Mr. Fletcher announced. "You're going to need to turn to page 277 for the problems you'll being doing. Please refer to you handouts for more information on the activity. Gerald, would you return to your table and start the assignment?"

He complied, lugging his cast off the table (which was layered over with messages and drawings from other students,) but not before sharing words with Phoebe that Helga tried to but couldn't eavesdrop on. Phoebe at last returned her attention to her books and papers.

She flipped open her book and found the page they needed. "Okay, looks like we're calculating moles. This is actually really easy."

"Hey, Pheebs. Sorry if I seemed possessive just then."

"No, no, not at all. You were right, we really needed to start working. Gerald gets a little too distracted sometimes."

"Are you two… going out yet or…?"

"Moles, Helga! Focus. Do you remember how to convert moles to grams?"

"Alright, alright, yeah, I do. Here, if you do all of the odds, I'll do the evens. Sound fair?"

"Whatever works for you! I would be fine doing all of them."

Phoebe wasn't nearly as easy to read as she once was, Helga thought. Maybe she was gaining something by sticking around after all.


	3. Cellular Devices

Arnold, Gerald, Stinky, and Harold were waiting outside of their classroom for the teacher to unlock the door. To pass the time, Sid told them a story Arnold found highly improbable.

"And then, after he climbed the street light, he dumped out everything in the backpack." Sid claimed.

"No…" Stinky gasped. Harold was chortling loudly.

"Yep. All 50 of them. _Right_ on the shuffleboard team."

Gerald shook his head. "They were asking for it, though."

"I dunno. There are clearly two sides to this story." said Arnold.

Gerald nudged Sid. "Pretty good tale. But you guys got nothing on what Fuzzy Slippers did last Memorial Day Weekend."

Gerald's words became unintelligible sounds as Arnold's attention drifted from him to the bustle of the hallway. He had heard this story several times already, and though it _was_ amusing, it had lost its novelty to him. He spaced out for a moment, his eyes grazing over the shapes and colors of the moving people until they settled on the pink ballcap of an individual who was exiting the library along with an assortment of other kids.

Arnold waved at the group. "Be right back."

He could feel their curious eyes boring into the back of his head. He did his best to ignore them.

Helga was still manually shutting the library doors that never quite shut all the way on their own. She shared a few passing words with Peapod as he left.

"Hi, Helga. What was going on in the library?"

Helga started upon noticing him. "Shit, football head… Sneaking up on people has always been a talent of yours, hasn't it?"

Arnold noted the familiarity of the situation, but was glad that he wasn't received as nastily as times past. He gave a shy smile. "Sorry…I'll walk louder next time."

"Nice. So, uh… What did you want?"

"Just to say hi. You weren't at the bench today. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… just… more of that fundraiser business you saw the other day. It's getting a little demanding."

"What was happening in there?" He pointed to the library doors.

"Just ended a student council meeting. Pretty asinine stuff, most times. Did manage to swing the Theatre Club a larger budget for their rendition of _You Can't Take It With You_."

"That's really cool, actually. Do you like theatre or something?"

"I guess, yeah… I dabble. Not in shit like _Cats_ , though. I have standards."

"Not very subtle, is it? That play, I mean."

"Exactly! No subtlety. I'd prefer… well, not that you care."

"No, I'd like to know."

Helga gave Arnold an insistent look. "No, really. Why do you care? Why are you over here talking to me, especially while your friends are just over there?" She jerked her head in the direction of the other four boys.

"I… just wanted to say hi to you, Helga."

She only blinked at him. Arnold couldn't help but notice the way her hair glowed, even in the school's institutional fluorescent lights.

"And maybe even to ask you if you were free sometime this weekend."

Helga was excessively quiet now, breaking eye contact with him to look about the hallway in the way one does during awkward moments.

Arnold realized how he had sounded and leapt to remedy his mistake. "I didn't mean it like that… It would just be to hang out and talk. We could go to a café and get some food, or just… chill. As friends."

He felt embarrassed now. He hadn't approached Helga with the intention of asking her to hang out this weekend. It had just… escaped him by some means. And maybe it was her thigh-high tube socks that were making him speak before he chose his words. Or the cute little kitten band-aid on her elbow that made her look so scrappy. Either way, he kind of hoped she would say yes.

"S-sorry, kid. I have plans this weekend."

"You… you do?"

"Yeah. Real shame. Try for next weekend?"

"Okay. We can do that."

She turned to leave, but paused before rotating back to Arnold.

"Hang on."

Arnold watched as she took out a scrap of paper and a pencil from her bag. She held the paper against the wall to jot something down.

Helga handed it to him. "You might want this. For planning purposes."

He took the torn sheet of notebook paper from her hand. It had a phone number scratched onto it, with the texture of the wall showing through the graphite marks.

"Don't call after 10." With that remark, she left to be absorbed by the current of moving students. In seconds, Arnold could no longer see her.

He looked down again at the scrap in his hand. At first, he had felt genuinely let down. And he couldn't figure out why. Did he want to see Helga that much?

But now, it wasn't so bad. Arnold took this as a sign of a development in their relationship. Real, physical proof that they had moved beyond the unhealthy bully-and-victim condition that had been the case for so many years. And maybe it was proof that Helga was finally letting her walls down for him. But maybe not, he thought. Maybe she just likes everyone to have her number. One way to find out was to text her.

Arnold tucked the scrap into his jacket pocket. Later. But not after 10.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. The teacher still hadn't returned to unlock the classroom door. As Arnold returned to the, now larger, group of kids waiting to enter their class, Gerald gave him a shrug.

"Golly, Arnold. I reckon I ain't never seen you and Helga have a conversation at school that didn't end in her giving you a good proverbial lashing." Stinky marveled.

"Yeah, man. You doing okay?" Gerald must have seen something on Arnold's face to warrant his concerned expression.

"I'm good, dude. I'll tell you later." Arnold reassured.

Harold cracked his knuckles. "You sure, Arnold? I'm not afraid to hit a tyrant like her, even if she is a girl."

"Harold, no."

* * *

Helga was screaming internally as she walked to class.

 _I can't believe I did that._ She thought. _Not only did I give a boy a number. I gave the boy of my romantic childhood fantasies my number as a follow-up to turning down HIS offer to go on an… "outing" with me this weekend when I have absolutely nothing planned. I have lost all control._

The school day ended several hours later. At Helga's locker, Phoebe offered her a ride home in her car, to which she declined, claiming she had a responsibility to stay for a portion of that night's PTO meeting.

"I'm setting up the refreshments table and introducing the superintendent. Y'know, lame stuff for appearances."

"It gives you taste of real-world politics, though." Phoebe encouraged. "Its small time, but you've got to start somewhere."

Helga raised her brow. "You don't have any big expectations of me, do you? I'm not really gunning for a position in government."

"Not yet, you aren't!"

"Okay, _mom_. Careful about pressuring me into a career I'll hate in 20 years. You know what? I retract my sarcasm. This kind of parenting is an improvement over my current mother's method."

Phoebe giggled. They were silent for a moment before she brought up the subject Helga was hoping she wouldn't bring up.

"I wasn't going to ask in front of everyone else, so I'll ask now. What made you not want to sit with Arnold today?"

"Nothing. Just needed to talk to you guys for a change. Change the routine up a bit."

"You're not avoiding him, are you?"

"No! To the contrary! I actually… gave him my number a few hours ago."

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Really?!"

"Yup."

"That's very rare for you!"

"I know. There's only like five people at the high school that have it. Well, six now."

"Whatever made you make such a bold move?"

"Well… to revisit the 'avoiding Arnold' theory, I kind of turned down his offer to hang out this weekend. And I have literally nothing else planned."

Phoebe gave the expression of disappointment that Helga could feel coming for miles. But it was quickly replaced with a broad smile.

"It's okay, though. You've made net progress."

"You think so?"

"Yes. But do consider sitting with him again. He looked kind of lonely today."

They parted ways in front of the school. Though she was going to do all those things for the PTO meeting in about an hour and a half, she also had a meeting with Cordelia and a few other people that she didn't necessarily want Phoebe to know about.

They were meeting in the curious little sculpture park beside the Cool Beans Coffee House four blocks south of the school. Cordelia was way into contemporary art, something that Helga didn't really grasp.

She was sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette and scrolling through her phone when Helga walked up to her. The bench itself was a big red abstract shape with its own plaque that read the title and artist of the piece. The entire park was full of pieces done in a similar style. Abstract and monochrome, the same sort of cast metal. Helga surmised that the entire park was done by the same artist.

"Are you even old enough to smoke those?" She sat down beside Cordelia

"Depends. Do you sell them?" She puffed.

"Where are the others?"

"Inside. I gave them some cash for our drinks."

"You are too perfect."

A few minutes passed before three other high schoolers exited the shop holding a drink carrier, Eugene among them. The coffees were all iced and laden with creamer and whipped topping, save for one hot, black brew.

"Just the way mama likes it." Helga snagged it.

The others pulled up some outdoor seating and joined them, sipping their drinks. Helga remembered the face of the boy to Eugene's left, but the other girl she had never met before, though she knew her name was Mary Beth.

Cordelia stood, dropping her cigarette on the ground despite the cement ashtray that was not four feet from her. "Now that we have everybody, we can start.

"Eugene. Tyler's given you an excellent review. She paid for a B and you delivered. Here's your cut." Cordelia unzipped her purse to produce a fifty dollar bill.

Eugene was beaming as he received his payment. "Wow. Those night-long writing sessions for a class I've never taken really paid off! I think I'll put this toward my college education."

Cordelia ignored him. "Lennie. You did well. Rhonda tried to tell me that you had skimped on your vocabulary usage to get out of paying you in full, but my source tells me you gave her the A+ she paid for. So no worries. I'll have the _rest_ of your cut Thursday at the latest." She again produced the payment from her bag, this time counting out seventy-five dollars.

Lennie reached out with trembling hands. "T-thank you." He said, barely audible.

Lennie, Helga recalled, was a twitchy, anxious senior with some of the highest grades in the school system. He was really making a killing doing these jobs.

"Next one's yours." Cordelia sat back down onto the bench.

Helga looked again at the girl she hadn't met before. She was short, had on a grey coat that was two sizes too large for her, and wore thick-rimmed glasses. She observed the group with utter apathy. Helga felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Mary Beth," Helga stood and sighed. "Your paper, written for Julie Parker's midterm essay assignment in AP Government, 2nd period, was two letter grades below what was promised to be a B+. That is your second and last strike."

Mary Beth spoke up. "But I wrote the paper, didn't I?"

"Sure, you _wrote a paper_. But you wrote a shit paper."

"I stayed up all night writing! How am I supposed to _guarantee_ some girl I don't even know a certain letter grade in a class that's supposed to be two grades above mine? "

"By actually working for it." Helga snapped. "Those are the terms you agreed to when you signed on. Because this is your second strike, we are retaining your cut of the commission and pulling your contract. There isn't any room for screwing around here."

"That's bullshit! We had a deal to split 60/40 on every commission!"

"Only if you DELIVER." Helga was losing her patience. "Julie didn't even pay the agreed amount, and I didn't try to make her. So really, by retaining your cut, we profited just as much as if you had written that B like you were supposed to."

Mary Beth was standing now, her little fists balled up beside her. "Fuck you guys. Your little 'operation' is such a scam. You're just overcharging high schoolers for homework done by strangers. It's shitty."

"Then leave." Cordelia said coolly.

"Please." Helga concurred.

Mary Beth's mouth opened, but made no sound. She only shook with anger. Finally, she snatched her coffee cup and stormed out of the park.

Cordelia produced a clipboard and pen. She was scratching out something that was previously written there. "That went well."

Helga approached the two that remained. "Okay, you guys. Midterms are over, so things will be pretty slow for a while. We'll call you back when there's more stuff to do. And remember to keep it mum." She moved two pinched fingers across her lips as if zipping them shut.

Lennie left quietly. Eugene stayed to approach Helga.

"I just wanted to thank you guys for this opportunity. I wasn't sure of it at first, but you really showed me just how this is good for me. And I'm learning at the same time!"

"I'm glad, Eugene. You're doing a good job."

He beamed as he left the sculpture park. Helga could hear the "oof!" as he tripped just out of her field of vision.

Helga turned to Cordelia. "Do we have a plan to keep Ms. Beth from blabbing to the wrong people? Because she will."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "No, but I'm working on it. I'm just relieved that she stepped out. She's hurting our cred."

"Yeah… We need to make it up to Julie. Super low offer on her next commission."

She grimaced. "Yikes. That's gonna come out of our pocket."

"I think it's worth it. She's lazy and fucking rich. If she leaves with a better taste in her mouth, she'll come back for her final English paper."

"You're probably right." Cordelia said without looking up from her phone.

Helga's own phone buzzed in her pocket. Plopping down on the bench again, she flipped it open to see who had texted her.

She didn't recognize the number. That could only mean that it was from _Arnold_.

Her heart skipped a beat.

A message that soon? Helga held her thumb over the 'open' button. _Why_ was this stressing her out so much? He was just some kid to her now, right? Some overly-friendly boy from her class. Any crush she had felt was totally over. She could do this. Just read the message.

She hit 'open message.'

 _Hey, its Arnold. Just texting so you have my number too. :)_

She couldn't help but sigh with relief that this was all it was.

Cordelia peered over her shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Helga reflexively clutched the phone to her chest. "Absolutely."

"Y'know, Helga, you're a pretty good liar most of the time. But that was just miserable."

She stuck out her tongue. "I don't have to be subtle about keeping secrets. I just have to keep them."

"Fair enough." Cordelia admitted. "Although, if you let on for long enough that you've got secrets, sooner or later, someone's gonna find a way to get to them."

"Knowing me, that wouldn't be the brightest thing t-"

In one flitting motion, Cordelia had snatched Helga's flip phone from her hands before she had a chance to realize it.

"DUDE." Helga grabbed for her phone, though it was held just out of reach. Cordelia was doing everything in her power to push Helga back long enough to understand the text on the phone screen.

"What is there to even hide here, H?"

"Nothing! You've read my phone, good job. Now give it back."

Cordelia tucked the phone behind her back. "Nuh uh. Not until you fess up why you're being so cagey about this Arnold character. You avoid talking about him like the plague."

"Cord, that's just me. I always keep to myself."

"Not like this. You're all jumpy and easy to catch off-guard. Like you have a _dark secret_." Cordelia raised her hands to wiggle her fingertips, flip phone still in hand. Helga snatched at it again, missing. Cordelia had already held it away, out of reach.

"It's not a 'dark' secret. Just a normal secret. If I tell you, will you return the damn phone?"

"That's the plan, Stan." She winked.

"Screw you." Helga slouched and folded her arms.

She reluctantly recounted the details of elementary school crush she had nursed to an unhealthy extent. All of the abuse and jealousy and regret. Though she may have deliberately side-stepped her excessive stalking and shrine-building, the confession was mostly genuine. She also explained how she had dropped that affection during middle school and had minimal contact with the boy until recently.

Cordelia fluttered her eyelids in disbelief, handing the phone back at last. "And you're all in a dither because…?"

"I don't know! That's what's bugging me. I shouldn't like him anymore. And I was rather enjoying that freedom. But now, it's like my stomach is in this knot I can't undo. And it's stressing me out, man." She clutched at her shoulders.

"Chill, dude. It's okay. You know what this sounds like? It sounds like you still have those feelings tucked away somewhere. But they're bound and gagged and can't do anything."

"That's… not an extreme metaphor."

"It's not. And it also looks like you're repressing those poor little feelings, squirming around in their little hostage situations. You should probably let them out. It would be the ethical thing to do."

"Well, maybe I'm not a very ethical person."

"You would be correct. But then you would never feel any reprieve from the torment you feel. And that will slowly drive you to madness."

Helga looked at Cordelia in astonishment. "You are freaking me out right now."

"Is it because I'm right?"

"Shit…"

"Actually, I'm just making stuff up as we go. But it sounds legit, right?" She smiled playfully.

Helga didn't have any words. She just stared at the concrete.

Cordelia's expression immediately became one of concern. "Oh, crap, I didn't mean for all that to get to you, dude." She tugged on Helga's arm. "Here, let's just go. I'll walk you home."

"… Actually, you could just walk me back to the school. I have a student government thing there in a few minutes."

"Oh, good. I needed to head in that direction anyway. Fuzzy Slippers is having a pool tournament tonight."

But was she right? Helga thought as they began walking away from the park. Would she be eaten alive by her inner emotions if she kept them bottled up in this way for too long? Surely she couldn't go more insane than she had when she was actually in touch with her feelings.

"Look, H, I'm sorry for stressing you out. You can act on your emotions however you want. Don't let me pressure you into feeling a certain way, okay?"

"It's fine. I do think there's some truth to what you're saying. But I literally do not know what to do about it."

"You could hang out with the guy."

"I thought you said you weren't going to pressure me."

"… into feeling a certain way. You can absolutely go to dinner with someone you don't like or even hate. I've done it too many times."

Helga laughed. "That's true. But you did manage to schmooze them over."

"You know what? The least you should do is reply to that text. Everything after that will be your decision, and I'll leave you alone about it from now on."

"Wow, really? You? Stay out of my business?" Helga made a dismissive noise.

"I know, right? You owe me for it, too."

As she walked, Helga flipped open her phone again. The message was still there, waiting.

"I probably will. Gimme time to think."

"Probably will what?" Cordelia said absentmindedly, again not looking up from her phone.

"Text him back, dummy."

"Oh yeah."

* * *

Helga arrived at her home, tired from the school function. She unlocked the door and entered the empty house, ignoring the mess in the kitchen and heading straight upstairs to her room.

It had always been eerie when the Pataki home was quiet. For as long as she had been here, there had always been some sort of racket, some sort of clue that someone was present. At the least, you could hear the sound of Bob's game shows on the box television or the blender whirring. The most quiet it had ever been was whenever Miriam had passed out behind the couch and would snore loudly. Olga's cheerful and overly excited voice would occasionally ring out throughout the house whenever she was in town. But those were rarities nowadays. Both of Helga's parents worked late, only getting home when Helga was well asleep. Likewise, in the mornings, Helga would awake for school while Mr. and Mrs. Pataki would still be unconscious wherever they had laid down first. The house was hardly as clean as it used to be. Helga figured she could've picked up on some of the housekeeping, but she didn't like spending too much time downstairs.

True, she did see her parents around the home on weekends. But Helga usually made a point to be out of the house on those days. This coming weekend's lack of any activity was an unfortunate mishap that was not of her choosing. Everyone she normally made plans with had other engagements. And spending hours by yourself in town was always a little uncomfortable.

Though, there was _one_ person available that she knew of.

Helga flung open the door to her room and shuffled over to her bed, collapsing on it. She let go of her bag on the floor next to the bed, rolled over, and opened her phone again.

 _I don't have to do this because I want to see him,_ she thought. _I can do this just to get out of the house and avoid Bob and Miriam._

Helga's hands were almost trembling as she reopened her inbox.

 _Besides, it's a totally platonic hang out. He said so himself. Nothing romantic is or will ever be intended._

She selected the message he had sent, scoffing quietly at the smiley emoticon he had used.

 _This is going to be so weird for me._

She hit reply and began typing.

 _Thanks. Actually, it turns out I have a free slot this weekend. Saturday evening._

Helga quickly backspaced. Saturday evening was strongly associated with dating. She didn't want to give the impression that she was suggesting anything close to a date.

 _Saturday afternoon. Were you still wanting to hang out?_

Her thumb wavered undecidedly over the "send" button for a moment.

She pressed it.

Done. It was sent. She had replied. _Satisfied, Cordelia?_

Helga lay on her back in her bed, clutching her phone to her chest and letting her eyes wander. Her room had changed considerably in attitude since her elementary school days. She had a few posters on the walls showcasing some of her interests. Bob had once taken her to a monster truck rally, which was still one of the coolest things she had ever seen. A poster from that event two years ago was tacked up beside her closet. There were a few band posters, a cork board with various reminders and information pinned onto it, and a body mirror with a few stickers stuck to the corners. The pink bed sheets and pillows were gone, replaced instead with a solid white down pillows and comforter, the most comfortable things in the world. On her dresser, there stood a purple lava lamp Miriam thought served as a birthday present. She had received it the very same year her parents had paid for a new car for Olga.

She felt the abrupt buzzing of the phone on her clavicle, making her jump.

Though she was dying to see Arnold's response, she was intensely anxious for reasons she couldn't discern. She swallowed and raised the phone to her face.

 _Hey helga what do you do if you ppour liquid soap into the dishwasher and then the kitchen floods with bubbles just curios I asked tyler but she told me to ask u_

Helga swore under her breath. It was only Sam.

 _Wait..._ Helga went back to her inbox. There were two messages there that she had received at the same time.

She opened the other one. This time, it really was from Arnold.

 _I would really like that, actually. I was thinking I could come get you at 3 or so, and we could take a cab to the boardwalk and get some food there._

Holy shit. Helga didn't know what to feel, except her fingers squeezing her phone. Does she just agree and that's it? No. She wanted to appear less available than that.

 _4 works better for me, if that's okay._

It meant another hour stuck in the house, but surely she could live through that.

 _That okay! I'm looking forward to it. I'll see you at 4 :)_

There's that fucking smiley face again. Helga couldn't bring herself to think what the actual hangout would be like. She began to think instead of improbable scenarios. He might be insufferable, she thought. She could hate his guts and walk out on him. Maybe even toss her beverage all over his shirt before she left. But he could also live up to everything her girlish fantasies had once held him to. He could be perfect. It was unlikely, but he had every chance to live up to those expectations.

Helga tapped out another message.

 _If you don't mind me asking, why did you want to see me this weekend?_

She would be lying if she said she wasn't terrified to ask this question. But the temptation of knowing was all too great, and maybe the question would make him nervous, too.

It took a moment, but she finally received a reply.

 _Well, to be honest, I'd like to get to know you a little better._

Helga felt her cheeks grow warm. Was he that charmed during their interactions that he had to know more? She did try to keep up a constant front, meaning to imply that she was edgier than she actually was. Had it worked on this kid? Getting to know the real Helga meant that Arnold was going to learn that she was actually capable of having insecurities. She didn't necessarily want many people knowing that, in addition to how goofy, lame, and awkward she thought she could be. He hadn't been charmed by that Helga. He had been charmed by the aloof personality she showed to people she wasn't intimately close to.

But did this interest imply he _liked_ her in any way? Helga hugged herself and wondered.


	4. The Date (Not Actually a Date)

**And now, the fluff chapter that I usually skip to in other people's fics! :3333**

 **TY for reading!**

* * *

Arnold fidgeted at his chair in the dining room. It was Saturday, 2:37 p.m.. He knew that he needed to call a cab in an hour or so.

Helga hadn't been showing up to their usual spot during breaks ever since he had interrupted their music session in an attempt to talk to her instead. And he had been beating himself up about it all week. Despite her claims that the fundraiser had been occupying most of her time, Arnold was certain that he had scared her off somehow. Maybe he had come off as a creep when he asked her to hang out when they hadn't actually spent that much time together before then. Maybe she was just extremely private and didn't appreciate his request to tell everything that had happened since elementary school.

It was to his surprise that she responded a few days ago to revise her original answer.

But if she was so determined to avoid him, why agree to see him today? It puzzled him. He had called Gerald about it shortly thereafter.

"I think I really frustrated her before. But if that's the case, her texts don't add up."

"It's a woman thing, man." Gerald assured him, his voice being one of those voices that didn't sound like his own over the phone. "She'll avoid you until the date, play hard-to-get and all that, to try and build up anticipation. Make you like her more, somehow. It's counter-productive if you ask me."

"That doesn't sound like something Helga would do."

"Why do you say that? She's manipulative enough to try it."

"Well, I dunno. She's not like the stereotypical girl, I guess. And she's not big into romance."

"At least to your knowledge. Who knows, dude? She could be datin' a bunch of already graduated dudes and no one knows it because we don't see anything at school."

"That... also doesn't sound like her."

"How well do you actually know Helga, man? Isn't not knowing much about her the whole reason you asked her out?"

"You got me. But... maybe let's not refer to it as a 'date.' Or 'asking out.' This is just about becoming better friends."

He could hear Gerald try to contain his laughter. "I ain't your grandparents, man, you don't have to hide nothing from me."

"Gerald."

"I'm just messing with you, lover boy. You don't _like_ her, right?"

"…"

"Arnold? Oh my god."

"Well, I don't know! That's why I wanted to see her again. So I could find out."

"You don't know?"

"I'm kind of on the fence, yeah. But I might."

"I just… don't see it, dude."

Arnold joked. "Of course you don't. You're a sucker for geeky types, right?"

"Hey, Phoebe is so much _more_ than that, man. Dude, I cannot believe you like the girl who has literally bullied you for years."

"But she's not like that anymore. She is so much more chill now. And she's in charge of a lot of stuff at school. Neither of those things applied to the Helga that bullied people."

"Okay, okay, I trust you. Just don't be too surprised if she starts that old shit again."

Gerald wasn't always the best with advice, he thought. Especially when it came to girls. In fact, some of the worst advice he had gotten about dates and women had come from his best friend. It hadn't taken long for him to stop following it.

Though, to Gerald's credit, Arnold actually seemed to go on more dates by taking that same advice. They never went well, but they happened. Arnold couldn't seem to even initiate a date with most girls by being straightforward and honest instead. And it did bum him out after a while. Ever since high school began for them, he had refrained from dating. So far, no one had approached him. Either no one was interested, or he was just too dense to notice.

"Shortman!" Grandpa entered the kitchen carrying an enormous cardboard box. "I thought you were working at the video store today!"

"Nope. I got the day off today."

"That's wonderful!" He dropped the absurdly large box on the table in front of him, dwarfing the surrounding furniture. "Then maybe you can help me break these bad boys in!"

"What are they?" Arnold inquired, standing up and trying to peer into the box as Grandpa rummaged around in it. He was still too short to see.

"Metal detector shoes!" He emerged with a pair in each hand. They were silly looking sandal-shaped devices with thick soles and straps (going up to what appeared to be mid-calf) that held the large battery pack. "There was a sale on television and I couldn't resist. Just came in today!"

"Grandpa, how many of those did you buy?"

"Just the two pair. Box is mostly full of bubble-wrap. But that's the best part, isn't it?"

The sound of the door could be heard opening and closing loudly. Grandma's voice rang out. "The Chinese is here!"

"Perfect timing, Pookie, I'm starved." Grandpa said, tossing the shoes back into the box.

Arnold lifted the box off of the table to make room. It was lighter than he originally thought. As he set the box down, he could see Grandma as she entered. She was dressed (rather authentically, he thought) in traditional Chinese robes and hair ornamentation. She often made a big deal of picking up food at restaurants, dressing in whatever traditional garments were associated with the style of food served there.

She set the many take-out boxes on the table and bowed at the group. "Shàn yǒu shàn bào."

"Back at you, dear." Grandpa pat her heartily on the back. "So, what do you say, Arnold? Aren't those shoes just the bees knees? We can try 'em out after we eat!" He sat down at the table and broke open a box of noodles.

"Actually, Grandpa, I have plans. I'm gonna go meet someone pretty soon."

"Ooohh really? Well that's too bad. Guess I'll just have to coerce Mr. Hyunh into trying them out with me." He leaned in real close to Arnold and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but I actually got these to check the cellar tunnels for my grandfather's, your great grandfather's, buried fortune."

Arnold put a finger to his lips and nodded. He didn't intend to. He was well aware of the chaos that would ensue between the boarders if they thought there was treasure underneath the Sunset Arms. He could see Grandma in her pirate outfit already.

He stood and pushed his chair in. "Save some wontons for me. I better go call the cab."

"A cab? Why don't you just take the Packard, boy?"

"I-I dunno about that, Grandpa…"

"Come on! You've got your license, don'tcha?" Grandpa fished out his keys and tossed them to Arnold. "Do it, it'll be good practice."

He caught them, the worry in his gut starting to build. Arnold never liked driving. He was always anxious behind the wheel, especially if Grandpa was there trying to teach him. He had barely passed his driving exam the second time he had taken it. Driving the Packard was especially difficult due to how wide it was, not to mention that it was a stick-shift.

"I know you don't like it, but you've gotta get used to driving or you won't be prepared for when you really need to. Now, have it back by 10." He left the room with a take-out box of noodles and a pair of chopsticks.

Grandma flipped open a paper fan and held it in front of her face. "Zài jiàn." she said, before following suit.

* * *

Arnold nervously started the car. It rumbled to life, the headlights coming on automatically. The Packard was certainly a nice car. And he felt honored that Grandpa wanted him to have it one day. But driving it in the city's fast-paced, urban streets intimidated the hell out of him.

Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his mirrors and backed out of the driveway.

Thankfully, Helga didn't live too far away. Arnold had to force himself to remember to manually shift gear. He checked the clock. It was 3:45. The traffic hadn't quite hit rush hour yet. And though the traffic was never too bad in his neighborhood, the trip to the boardwalk would be more of a challenge, as it was just outside of downtown. If he had known he would be driving today, he would've opted for a closer attraction.

He pulled up to the blue-bricked Pataki residence, thrilled that there was enough room on the street for him to easily parallel park. He did so. Should he honk? No, that would be rude. It was probably best to just go up to the door and knock.

He had already unbuckled when he realized he wouldn't have to get out of the car. Helga was already out the door. He scrambled to unlock the passenger side for her.

"Pretty punctual, football head." She swung open the door and got in. "Thought you were getting cab. This is still pretty cool, though." She twisted around to check out the interior of the Packard.

Arnold stared. He couldn't help but think that she looked… really nice. Her hair was in a ponytail, something he had never seen Helga do. She had clearly put on some degree of makeup, though he didn't know what the names were for anything she was wearing (Maybe mascara? That was the only kind of make-up he really knew about.) Her dress was casual: dark navy blue, kind of short, with a halter neckline (something he could describe from being around Rhonda all these years.) A grey sweatshirt, black knee-high socks, and sneakers kept the outfit tomboyish.

"… Something wrong, dude?" Helga had noted his gaze. He shook his head as if emerging from a daydream.

"No, I'm good. Everything's good." Arnold realized he hadn't dressed in anything nicer than his school clothes. He glanced down at his white T-shirt and flannel button up, hoping he didn't look too sloppy.

"I hope so, since you're the one driving."

He chuckled. "No, I'm good to drive. You, ah… look really nice tonight, y'know." He felt his cheeks flush as he said it.

"… Thanks. You could use a shave, though."

He looked at her, not expecting that response.

She buckled herself in, smiling. "Just kidding, let's go."

He felt his jawline. Yeah, he could've shaved. Arnold shifted into drive and pulled into the street.

Driving in the city was of the few things he disliked about living where he was. He had been able to practice once in his cousin Arnie's rural hometown and loved it. There was only the occasional other driver, and those country roads didn't have nearly as many intersections to stop at. One road could go winding on for miles without anywhere else to turn, save a few houses. It had been so peaceful.

And just about the opposite of where he was now. There was a street light every block and cars in front of and behind him. It was all he could do to make light conversation with the person he was out here to be with.

"How's the... fundraiser going?"

"Oh, you know. Pretty good. Selling junk food to kids who are starved on crappy school lunches. They're almost throwing money at us, sometimes."

"That… would be hilarious to see."

"It is. The stoners are the funniest. Stinky gets the munchies so bad."

"Wow. I can see that… about Stinky."

"Are you sure you're okay?" He could sense Helga lean over to look at him better. "You keep… pausing like this in your sentences."

"I-I'm sorry. I'm just focusing." Arnold said as he wedged his way into a turn lane.

"You nervous about driving or something?"

"Just a little."

"Don't be. Getting psyched out will make you a worse driver."

"That… makes me more nervous."

"Criminy, Arnold…"

He glanced over at her for a split second. "Hey, you said it!"

"Said what?"

"That word. You always used to say that."

"Wha- 'criminy?'"

"Yeah. You would literally always say it when you were frustrated or something. I got really used to it because you were frustrated so often." He laughed a little. "You don't say it so much anymore."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Does that mean you're less frustrated?"

"No, I think I just stopped using it."

"Hm." Arnold turned onto 2nd Street once the light turned. They weren't far now.

"Now that I think about it." He continued. "There's a lot of things you don't do now that I remember you doing when we were kids."

"Maybe that's because we're a lot older now? And not kids?"

"I'm just saying. I remember your pink bow the most, though."

He sensed Helga looking at him. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. I liked it a lot."

"It _was_ a pretty awesome bow."

"Why'd you stop wearing it?"

"Because I'm not a fucking Christmas present."

Arnold laughed earnestly at this. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what he hoped was a smile.

They found a convenient parking spot near the beach. Finally, they had arrived. Arnold felt the tension leave his body as he turned off the engine.

"See? You managed." Helga said as she left the car. "You only have to do it once more today."

"I am so encouraged." Arnold approached her, noticing now more than ever how she was still taller than him. But just barely.

"I _could_ drive on the way back, y'know. You looked really stressed out. And I'm a pretty damn good driver. No one has to know."

"I don't think you should. I mean… if it were a car of my own, sure. But this is the _Packard_."

"Yeah, you're right. You wouldn't want to miss that Saturday night traffic."

"Hey! Not helping."

She smirked as they began walking toward the boardwalk.

It had grown significantly in recent years. What was once a cheesy sort of place with corndog stands and cheap amusements had turned into a decent place to spend an evening. It was cleaner and more manicured. Attractive storefronts had popped up beside the boardwalk, selling mostly summer clothes and baubles aimed at tourists. And while the weather hadn't warmed yet, the chill had given way to a comfortable 65 degrees. Just nice enough for the place to be active.

There was a bowling alley, an arcade, lots of food vendors, even bumper cars. Carnival-esque game booths could be found every so often. A mini golf course was set to open up in a few months.

"Dude…" Helga marveled at the newer attractions. "I wish we had shit like around this when we were little."

"We kinda did. Just not all in one place."

"Yeah, like the Cheese Festival does some of these things, but it's only biannual."

"Oh man, they have that game where you try to knock the bottles over!"

Arnold walked up to the booth. In true festival style, plush animals were hung about the canopy of the booth as examples of prizes. The man operating the tent appeared bored out of his mind. Exactly the way it should be, he thought.

Helga followed behind, arms crossed casually. "This is the first thing that excites you. You must be a really interesting person."

"Don't test me. I _will_ win you a stuffed animal if you do." Arnold grinned.

She seemed taken aback. "Wait… No, you don't need to do that."

"Nope. Doing it."

"Five bucks for one ball." The man in the stall disclosed in perhaps the most indifferent tone ever. Arnold slipped a five dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the man, who exchanged them for a baseball.

"Really, Arnold."

"Hm? What was that?"

"It's rigged. They always are."

"So?" He gave the most well-meaning smile he could muster.

She didn't look at him. If he wasn't mistaken, Arnold would have said she was blushing.

He gave the stack of milk bottles his best throw. Of course, he only managed to knock down two of the pyramid. He knew the bottles were weighted and would only lead to a losing outcome. But he wanted to do it for Helga. It was stupid and cliché and he loved it.

"Pity prize." The man muttered. He handed Arnold a small purple stuffed bunny that fit in the palm of his hand. It was shoddily and clearly mass-produced, but also kind of cute.

"Check it out." He held it up to Helga. "It's adorable."

Helga had her face covered with her hand, peered out at him only when he handed her the prize bunny.

"Oh my god."

"What? Did I embarrass you?" Arnold suddenly remembered how she had reacted to his friendliness before. He realized that maybe this wasn't the best thing to do for her.

"No. It's just… so dumb." She stifled a laugh.

"The bunny?"

"That you spent five dollars on."

"It's fine, though. It was fun. And now it's yours." He offered it up.

Helga took it into her hands, peering at it. She hid her smile and shook her head. "… So dumb."

They started walking farther down the boardwalk. Despite her objections, Arnold saw her tuck the pity prize into her coat pocket. He felt satisfied.

Helga chose the next activity, gesturing eagerly to the video arcade.

"This one will actually be fun." She chided. They tried out all of the new games they hadn't had the chance to play. And there were so many new ones. Arnold hadn't realized how long it had been since he had been to an arcade. Helga turned out to be supremely skilled at _Space Invaders_. However, they decided to call it quits when they realized they had spent over 20 dollars trying to make progress in _Gauntlet_.

"It's so damn _hard._ " Helga groaned.

"It really is. That high score the other guy had doesn't seem real."

They eventually came across a nacho vendor that looked pretty appetizing. Helga quickly darted in front of him in line. He assumed it was so she could pay for her own order and keep him from paying for it instead. This let him down just a little. Mostly because he would have.

They found a clear edge to the boardwalk that hung out over the beach far enough away from the bustle of the main boardwalk no to be occupied and sat there to eat. The sun wasn't quite setting yet, but it was getting close to the horizon.

"Why is the sun so much brighter around sunset than the rest of the day? It's killing my eyes." Helga shielded her vision from the glare of the star.

"I don't think it's brighter. It's just at eye-level. So you're forced to look directly at it if you're facing west." Arnold reasoned. He, too, was shielding his eyes.

"Sounds valid." She concluded, biting into a nacho.

They ate in silence for a moment before Helga spoke up again.

"This isn't a date, is it?"

Arnold looked at her, surprised. He didn't expect such a straightforward question.

"Y-... No. Not if..."

Helga raised one eyebrow at him. "Not if I don't want it to be?"

"... Yeah."

"Hm. Fair enough."

Arnold felt as though he had just lost points with Helga. Since she was asking questions, he figured he could ask one too. As much as he wanted the night to go well, he also really needed to know. He needed to figure out where he had went wrong before.

"I, um... meant to ask you something before. Are you doing okay?"

"What?" She looked at him with a confused expression. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why? Why are you so worried?"

Arnold firmly met her gaze. "I'm _worried_ because you stopped coming to the bench after lunch... I-I dunno. I felt like I scared you off by making you talk to me, so I've been wary about being too friendly to you. I mean, I actually don't know if that's the problem, but…"

She raised her brow at him. "I… dude, it's fine. There isn't a problem. I've… actually had a lot of fun with you. You're not ' _too friendly'_ or anything."

He felt relieved. "So I don't make you uncomfortable?"

"No!... well…"

He was anxious again. Arnold turned his body toward her, pleadingly.

"Helga, please tell me the truth."

She held the gaze for a while longer, incredulous. Then she turned away from him to look at nothing.

"I-I guess I wasn't really ready to open up to you." She spoke after a brief silence. "A-and I wasn't really sure where all this interest in me came from. I figured, y'know, after middle school, you would want nothing more to do with me. Hell, after the FTI tower thing, I pretty much assumed you were more than willing to cease communications. So I just… let it happen.

"So when you suddenly show up out of nowhere after so much time has passed, wanting to talk and share music… I guess I got overwhelmed. Needed to think it over."

"Really?" He pressed.

"Yup. That's the truth. Swear."

Arnold raked his hand through his hair. "… I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault, dude. I was just being private and unapproachable. The usual stuff. Don't even sweat it."

They sat there beside each other for a while. The sun was officially setting. Their skyline partially featured the furthest edge of the city. Buildings in the distance stood silhouetted against the sliver that the sun had turned into.

"Guess I really am too friendly." He attempted a joke, hoping to lighten things up.

"You could stand to be more of an asshole, sure." Helga picked up on it. There was a brief smile before she returned to gazing at the waters.

Helga was reclining leisurely, her arms propping her up on the boardwalk planks, her legs dangling below. Arnold admitted to himself that the scowl and backwards baseball cap, now absent, did a lot for her intimidation factor. Here, like she was, she seemed so harmless and natural. And more human than he had ever perceived her.

And yeah, with the warm glow of dusk hitting her at this angle, she was really pretty.

She must've caught him staring, though, because she promptly sat up, adjusted her dress, and checked her phone. Arnold quickly looked away for the time being.

* * *

Helga was only checking her phone to appear busy and disinterested. Especially after she noticed him… what was he doing looking at her like that? _Checking her out?_

And yeah, it made her feel a little awkward. But she couldn't shake the intense butterflies that had developed in her stomach. She needed a distraction.

The only message to check was that of Cordelia's, sent about an hour ago.

 _Found the perfect dirt on Marie Beth to keep her from talking about things she shouldn't! :) You won't believe what freaky shit this chick gets up to in her spare time._

Helga found this amusing and tucked the phone away, planning to respond later. She had never told anyone of her plans with Arnold, not even Phoebe. And though she was likely to find out from Gerald, she withheld that information on the off-chance that he wouldn't tell. So if things went really sour tonight, (almost) no one would have to know, and she could live on with minimal reminders of it.

But so far, she had actually been enjoying Arnold's company, for the most part. There was the issue of his staring. But that could be avoided if they got up from this pier and did something else.

She spoke up after a minute or two. "Hey, you wanna explore that part of the shore that's usually below the tide?" She pointed to a rough patch of the beach underneath one of the docks.

"That might not be safe." He cocked his head.

"Nah. Used to come down here all the time looking for goodies." She looked down over her knees. The sand below wasn't such a long drop that she couldn't make it from here. She slid off the side of the pier and landed softly on the beach.

"Hey!" Arnold exclaimed, surprised. Helga started making her way over to the underside of the docks. She could hear him land in the sand behind her.

The area was lacking for dead fish, for which Helga was grateful. But it still had that soupy ocean water smell to it. She loved lonely places like these and made a hobby of exploring them.

"What sort of 'goodies' do you normally find?" Arnold caught up to her.

"All kinds of shit. Sometimes valuable things like watches and rings. I even found a revolver one time."

"Oh my gosh."

"Yeah. It's amazing what just gets deposited out here when the tides roll out. Look."

She kneeled down in the sand, picking something up out of it. It was an old metal key, now horribly rusted.

"See? Just random things! It's awesome." She dug around more.

"Who knows who these things belonged to?" Arnold kneeled down to join her.

"Yeah. That's what makes it so interesting."

"My grandpa has some metal detector shoes we could've totally used here."

"I'm sorry?" She shot him a bewildered look. "Metal detector _shoes?_ "

"Yeah. I don't know why he bought them." He shrugged. "It'd be just as efficient to get a normal metal detector."

"Actually, the shoes would be more efficient." Helga thought about it in earnest. "You have a pair of them, right? So you can cover twice as much surface area at once."

"Huh. I didn't think about that."

"Course you didn't, hair boy." She smirked.

"Hair boy… it's been a while since I've heard that one, too."

"Oh… should I not call you that?" Helga asked with precaution. She hadn't considered whether or not those names bothered him

"No, it's cool. It's actually kind of nice now. More like a nickname."

"… Why is that?"

"Because you don't mean it as an insult anymore."

"Ha. You don't know that."

Arnold gave her a light-hearted push, almost making her fall out of her kneeling position. Helga retaliated by pushing him back. Only, he didn't manage to catch his balance like she did.

He fell over, making a loud _thunk_ noise when his head hit the ground.

"Shit." Helga scrambled over to where he lay. She hadn't meant to push him that hard. "You alright? Do I need to call someone?"

"Nope… No." He was rubbing the back of his head, which had connected with a rock at the base of one of the pier's pillars. "I just got thumped. Everything's good." He smiled as if it were proof that he was okay.

"Lemme look." Helga kneeled over and made him turn his head so that she could see the injury. There wasn't any blood, at least.

"Uh… okay. Don't know how to check for concussions. Just... don't go to sleep for a few hours."

"Thank you, Doctor Pataki." The sarcasm was good-humored.

Now that Helga was looking at him… actually examining at him, and not just making eye contact because they were talking, she found herself surprised at how little she had noticed Arnold mature. She had certainly noticed the deeper voice and increased height (though it wasn't a big change from her perspective; she was still taller,) she hadn't noticed other things. Like how he was just… bigger all around. His shoulders were broader, his feet and hands had grown. He hadn't bulked up like some of the other boys had. In fact, he was still pretty skinny by comparison. But definitely not _as_ skinny as he used to be. It was jarring, having not really paid attention for so long.

Now, though, he almost looked… hot? Especially with the way he was propped up on his elbows. Was that the right word to use? Maybe attractive. No… no, he was definitely hot. Helga didn't want to try and speak. She would only get flustered and embarrass herself.

"Helga? You okay?"

She only nodded.

Arnold sat up, looking concerned. "No, really. Is there blood? Did it bother you?" He felt the back of his head again.

"No… no blood. Nothing's wrong."

"Okay, good."

She made a noncommittal hand gesture. "Blood wouldn't have gotten to me anyway, dude."

He grinned. Helga gave an embarrassed smile before looking away.

It was only them sitting under the docks. The sun had gone down, leaving the world in a cool dusk, the edge of the skyline tinged with orange. It was really nice. She was glad she had agreed to this.

She was about to tell Arnold so when she turned back to him. His eyes met hers. And he was giving her that same look he had been giving her on the pier. It was a thoughtful, soft look. Helga felt her heart racing out of her chest. She knew her cheeks were bright red, and she couldn't hide it.

"Helga, I…"

His cheeks had also reddened. He didn't finish the sentence. She hadn't realized until then that their faces were so close.

She didn't even register that it had happened.

They had leaned in and kissed each other.

And it was the softest, most wholesome thing of Helga's life.

He was so gentle. Incredibly gentle. Helga could feel his hand at her back pulling her into him. His warm breath was fervent and staggered, betraying how ardent he was. She leaned into him, returning his kiss with the same enthusiasm. And, god, he smelled _amazing_. Like clean linens and sandal wood.

There was so much care in his movements that Helga had never felt more wanted. He traced the edge of her face, lightly gripping her wrist. He was _savoring_ this. And she couldn't get enough of it.

She didn't know how much time had passed when their lips parted.

"H-He…" Arnold was clearly breathless. "You… uh…"

 _Damn_ , she thought. _He's more flustered than I am. It's really cute_.

She noticed he was still holding her hand.

"You… are a really good kisser…"

"Really?"

"Y-yeah… I didn't anticipate…"

She took her hand back, crossing her arms in mock offense. "You didn't think I'd be very good, huh?"

"No, not that. I just didn't know it would be… like that."

She gazed at him. "Well… it was. So you'll just have to deal with it."

He grinned. "Fine by me."

They were quiet for a moment. It took Arnold some time to realize that it had gotten dark, and had been for a while.

He rose from the ground "Oh, geez, what time is it? I should probably get you home."

"You don't need to rush or anything. I don't really have a curfew." She stood also, brushing sand off of her legs and his.

"Oh really?" His attention was piqued by this. Helga stammered, trying to retract that statement. Arnold snickered over her, already walking out from under the pier. "Come on."

It was a pretty tame drive home. Helga wasn't sure of what to talk about or what to think, and so their conversation was very idle. It was probably for the best, she thought. Arnold could focus more on the busy nighttime streets.

He pulled up to the Pataki home. Cars had filled up the side-street parking, leaving only one tight space Arnold could've parked in.

"I, uh, could make the block. See if someone leaves."

"Dude, just park and put on your hazard lights." She leaned over to the dash to hit the red triangle button. "I'm leaving, anyway."

"Hey, wait. I want to tell you something."

Helga, already half out of the vehicle, slid back in to hear what he had to say.

"I had fun with you tonight. A lot of fun. And I really like you." He looked her square in the eyes, a determined expression on his face. "I want to see you again, if that's okay."

Helga returned his look meekly. She knew this typical sort of goodbye was going to happen, but there didn't seem to be any avoiding it.

"… I could do that." She said.

"Would you say it's a date now?"

"... I'll still need to think on that one."

Helga saw his playful expression fade. _Shit._ _Why am I so damn cold?_ She couldn't take back the words; they were true, she really still wanted to think about it. But there was something she could do to remedy things.

She allowed herself to almost completely exit the car before she darted back to Arnold, giving him a quick parting kiss that even he wasn't prepared for.

"Goodnight!" She called, shutting the door and running up the steps to her home. She didn't give herself the chance to look back at his face to see his reaction.

She flung open the door and closed it behind her.

Finally inside, she let out a huge sigh and slumped against the door.

She reached into her coat pocket to feel the plush bunny toy he had given her. _Fuck_. _I guess I like him now_.


	5. Typical Shenanigans

Arnold sat in the car for a while after Helga had gone, feeling the place on his cheek where she had kissed him goodbye. He just hadn't expected it. He was sure that she had felt too embarrassed by the way their night had gone to want to see him again. The drive back had been so painfully quiet. His confession of liking her had been a last-ditch effort to try and elicit a response, any response, be it positive or negative, toward him.

 _I'll still have to think on that one…._ After hearing that, Arnold had been ready to call the whole night a bust.

But she had kissed him! Surely that was proof to the contrary. Yes, they had kissed before on that beach, which still made his heart flutter by thinking about it. But this one was different. This one had turned his whole night around, validating everything he had been feeling that night hanging out with Helga. He knew there had been chemistry there. Perhaps she was just too shy to admit it.

Arnold jumped when a car behind him honked in frustration. He remembered where he was, parked in the middle of the street with his hazard lights on. He quickly shifted gear and pulled away to return home.

He arrived shortly before 9, plenty of time before the Packard's assigned curfew. Stepping inside, Arnold was met with a barrage of arguing boarders, all of which were directing their anger to Grandpa, who was having difficulty controlling the situation.

"You all are just being self-centered!" He shouted over the bickering. "This was _my_ grandfather's! My own flesh and blood! Why should I share it with any of you?"

Mr. Hyunh was outraged, "Maybe because I spent four and a half hours of my evening plodding around the cellar with you looking for the darn thing! And I hate the cellar! It is spooky and smelly!"

"And because I had to lend you half of my explosives stash so you could blast your way to it!" Ernie shouted.

Oskar chimed in meekly. "I live here too, I should be entitled to a part of it. We should split the fortune on the basis of… uh, love for one another, heh heh."

Grandma was standing abreast of the fray near Arnold, observing and sipping from her mug.

Arnold asked her, "Did they actually find Grandpa's grandpa's fortune?"

Grandma took him aside and leaned in to whisper to him. "They found a box, alright. All that's in it are newspaper clippings about the founding of the Sunset Arms. But I'm not about to tell them that." She winked.

Arnold smiled and shook his head. "Well, don't let them go on all night."

"Oh, they'll find out. Won't be long now." She went back to watching the fight.

Arnold sidestepped the angry group, not a one of them noticing him. He climbed the first set of stairs to the next floor and released the second set from the ceiling that led to his attic bedroom.

Once inside, Arnold fell limply onto his revolving Murphy sofa. His driving anxiety had exhausted him, but he was wide awake with the residual thrill of his successful outing. Or date. He wasn't sure if he could call it that yet. He was sorely tempted to text her, but something told him that messaging again so soon would only serve to put her off further.

His eyelids drooped as he stared at the glass pane above him, the stars only just visible. He considered calling Gerald and informing him of the details. As he lazily dug his phone out from his pocket and held it up, the device _pinged_ loudly. It startled him so that he almost dropped it on his face.

He checked the contact. It was a message from Helga. His heart racing, he opening it.

 _Hey. So I thought about it. I guess it was a date after all._

He quickly tapped back.

 _Oh? What brought you to that conclusion?_

Her reply was almost instant.

 _You did that stupid, cliché thing where you win me a stuffed animal. That's what happens on dates, right?_

Arnold chuckled to himself.

 _You have a point._

After sending the last message, he fell asleep.

* * *

Since Saturday's eventful night, Arnold and Helga had taken to seeing each other in private. They never engaged in any couple-like behavior during school, except maybe for a few quick kisses when they were certain no one was looking. They had agreed to wait a while before informing people of the new development in their relationship. Arnold wasn't sure if they were considered "dating" yet. Neither of them had tried to officially label this… _thing_ they were doing. But it was obviously something, and Helga wasn't about to let it become common knowledge just yet.

They had both come to the conclusion that the disbelief and questions from both of their friends and peers would be too much to handle all at once and would hound them for weeks. Instead, they were hoping to achieve a controlled release, telling only their closest friends at first, then slowly letting it out to others around them. It would get tiresome, but at least they would avoiding the otherwise inevitable bombardment of surprised looks, unnecessary comments, and gossip. Gerald was already aware, of course, as Arnold had always kept his friend in the loop even before the date. There wasn't any hiding it, anyway. Gerald wasn't an intensely curious person, but he insisted on knowing what had happened after his and Helga's first outing. Thankfully, Arnold's friend knew better than to tell anyone else.

However, _after_ school…

Arnold couldn't help but anticipate the time spent with Helga after class on days they had planned to meet, either at his house or hers. A meeting at the Sunset Arms usually meant him arriving home as usual, with Helga climbing up the fire escape to sneak into his room. Helga wasn't keen on meeting his grandparents yet.

"They'll love you, y'know." Arnold reassured her, sitting cross-legged on his floor and sifting through his record collection. "They love most people."

Helga was leisurely spinning in his desk chair, a sarcastic expression on her face. "Doubt it. I don't know if you know this, Arnoldo, but I am a huge bitch."

 _"_ You are not _."_

"Yup, I totally am. Sorry for the bombshell. Probably should've told you sooner, huh?"

"My grandparents might be crazy, but they are amazing people. You would love them, too."

She stretched her feet to the floor, stopping the chair mid-spin. "I believe you, dude, don't get me wrong. I'm just gonna need some time to, like... mentally prepare and stuff."

"I get you." He plucked a vinyl case from the box and stood. "Like I said, I'm not gonna push your boundaries. But I can't stop my grandpa from barging through that door if he wants to see me." He smiled playfully before pecking Helga's forehead, her expression changing to one of horror.

"He doesn't do that. You're just trying to get to me." She glared at him.

"Oh yeah he does. On the daily."

She gestured in frustration to the door. "Why can't I just walk over there and lock it? Problem solved, right?"

"Lock's broken." He put simply. Arnold enjoyed teasing her. Even if it meant he would face a little abuse later, it was always in good fun. She was doing her best to appear skeptical, but would occasionally eye the door nervously.

He delicately set the record onto his turntable. _Paul's Boutique_ by the Beastie Boys was one of his favorite albums, and he treated it like he would a newborn. He wanted to be able to listen to this vinyl in ten years with the same quality it had now.

Helga had crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair, looking down her nose at him. "Well, if he _does_ walk in here and find me, it won't be me getting busted."

Arnold shrugged as he placed the needle on the record, still smiling the smile he knew frustrated her so much. "So be it. At least they get to meet you." The music started to flood the room. He quickly moved to sit on a floor pillow, one of his favorite places to jam, and patted the space beside him invitingly. She considered him doubtfully before joining.

"It's not really broken." He admitted.

She eyed him, amused. "I didn't think so. Can I lock it, then?"

"Already did." He shuffled around on his pillow, trying to get comfortable. "I really do understand, though. And I can totally wait until you're ready… O-on all fronts. Meeting my grandparents, coming out to people at school. Everything." He didn't mean to stutter. He had also been trying to suggest something else, but it didn't come out quite right.

Her gaze bored into him. After a moment, she averted her eyes, absentmindedly tugging on her hair.

"… Thanks."

He gingerly put his arm around her, all the way to her far shoulder. To his delight, she eventually leaned into him. They savored the album quietly, together.

Thirty minutes into the music, Oscar knocked loudly on his door, demanding sanctuary from an angry Suzie. They attempted to ignore him, hoping he would give up and leave, but the little Czech man was relentless. Seeing no other option, Arnold let Helga out through the fire escape. It wasn't quite how he had intended the night to go down, but their time together had been nice.

Most of their evenings at his house ended in this fashion.

Going to Helga's house was an entirely different story, however. She hadn't been kidding when she told him her parents were never home in the evenings until very late. With the whole house to themselves, Arnold found that he had to restrain himself sometimes from acting… ungentlemanly.

They always found time to make out.

Helga was surprisingly enthusiastic. And he didn't mind in the least.

He was _really_ attracted to her, in fact. She was shapely, witty, and… kind of badass. She was extremely confident around other people and had a rather commanding presence. Such were the same traits that had intimidated him before (and still did, sometimes.) To add to his fascination, Arnold had witnessed her grind a skateboard down the public library's staircase handrail a few months before they had started talking again. He hadn't even known she skateboarded in her free time until then. And he found it incredibly sexy.

They kissed a lot at her house.

They kissed a lot wherever they could.

He _loved_ the feeling of her lips on his. They were soft, and so was she. Helga betrayed a lot of the affection she felt for him when they were locked together. He hoped that he did, too.

Despite his enjoyment, Arnold hadn't had too much practice prior to their involvement. He eventually found the nerve to ask her if he was at all a good kisser. To his relief, she assured him that he was doing fine. This boosted his confidence, and judging by his experience with her, he gathered that she knew what she was talking about.

During school, they kept their interactions quite tame. Except for one time.

Helga, Phoebe, and Tyler (he was pretty sure that was her name) were conversing by the water fountain as they filled their bottles. He approached, a small folded note in his hand. Their voices dwindled after noticing him.

"Hey... Phoebe. Gerald isn't going to be in Business today. The yearbook committee needed him this period. But he told me to give you this."

Phoebe's expression was curiously blank as she plucked the note from his hands. "Okay, thank you, Arnold."

"Ugh, sick." Tyler chimed in. "What is he writing to you that's so private, he can't even text it to you, huh? Your parents read your messages?" Tyler looked down curiously at the tightly folded note.

Helga spoke monotonously, "Oh, come now. I'm sure this is nothing but a sweet and tasteful gesture on behalf of the Johansson boy. Phoebe will be captivated by his polite choice of words and insist on sharing the missive with her parents and classmates."

Arnold tried not to look at Helga too much, as they were trying to avoid letting on that they had a thing, but he could tell she had rolled her eyes.

Phoebe sighed at their words. Tucking the note away in her bag, she played along ironically. "Undoubtedly. You'll all be hearing the news from me soon."

Arnold shrugged and gave a light grimace. "Sorry, Phoebe."

"Not your fault."

As the other two walked away a few feet to one of their lockers, she stayed behind to whisper stiffly to him, "Honestly, Gerald could afford to cool his act for a little while." He wasn't quite sure what Phoebe was referring to, as he didn't make a point to keep up with the details of their relationship (aside from what Gerald would recount to him.) Maybe this frustrated reaction was worth mentioning to his friend. Phoebe left him to snag a book from the girls' locker. They all shared lockers, it seemed.

Arnold got a drink himself from the water fountain. As the group began making their way to their class, Helga held back.

"Damn, guys. I forgot my binder. I'll meet you in class."

The other two nodded and continued on. Snide comments from Tyler faded into the buzz of the slowly emptying hallway.

Pretty soon, it was just the two of them in that wing of the building.

Before he could lift his head from the fountain, he felt a sharp pull on his collar, tugging him away.

"Wha-"

Helga had snagged him. She was pulling him across the hallway and through a door he hadn't ever really noticed until then.

It was a janitor's closet. He found this out with the last of the light from the hallway before the door swung shut behind him. In the dark, he could see just well enough to be aware of some of the objects in the room.

But he didn't need his vision to feel Helga shove him against the wall.

"Hi, there." She was inches from him.

Arnold swore loudly. He covered his mouth, not having meant to. He continued with a lowered voice. "Helga, what are you doing?"

"Messing with you." She grinned. Her hands gripped his wrists to the drywall. He tried not to think about that for the moment.

"I thought we weren't going to see each other at school."

"I can't see anything. Can you?"

"You're _joking_ , right? About... making out in the hall closet?"

"I'm really not."

His eyes were adjusting. He could see her face clearly in front of his now, her expression mischievous and slightly guilty.

"Haha… I-I'm sorry... You're right. This is pretty dumb, isn't it?."

He gazed at her. Arnold found her beautiful, even in the low light. Her crazy scheme was such a bad idea, he thought. She could jeopardize their privacy and good standing if they were caught this way. Not to mention how they were supposed to be in class right now. But the scheme was so... cute. And endearing. And it made him feel so wanted. So much trouble just to chance a few minutes alone with him.

"No."

"… What?"

"Just kiss me. Please."

She did. Passionately. The warmth of her mouth electrified Arnold's body in a way he wasn't prepared for. Helga gripped him tighter, pressing into him desperately. She kissed him softly, at first. Their movements matched each other's so wonderfully that Arnold's head was buzzing from the stimulation.

He shook his hands loose so that he could better feel her. Grasping at her waist, he pulled her into him as close as he could. He could feel her shiver against him. She was almost melting in his hands. Their tongues met more than once.

He felt her labored breath against his skin as she moved to kiss his neck. He shuddered at her contact, being intensely sensitive there. He clutched her body to him as he struggled to keep from moaning.

There would be no containing it. Arnold had to quickly spin them so that Helga was pinned between him and the wall. He turned the tables on her, clasping her hands above her head and planting his mouth on hers. He didn't think they could get much closer.

It was when Arnold moved down her neck to her collarbone that she tried to speak.

"A-Arnold… maybe… we should…"

"Stop?" He managed, his voice muffled by her chest.

She only nodded, words apparently being too much for her. She looked almost dazed.

"Okay." He stopped, looking into her half-lidded eyes. "I will. As long as you do something for me, first."

Her expression changed to that of alarm. "Dude, y-"

"It's nothing bad. Promise. I just have a question." Now it was Arnold's turn to be mischievous. He smirked playfully. "But you have to give me the truth. Or I'll go back to what I was doing."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "How will you know? I could say anything."

"I think I'll know."

"… Okay, sure."

"Why did you pull me in here in the first place?"

"That's it? That's your question?"

"Yeah. Why did you want to kiss me so bad?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duh. Because I felt like it."

"Helga."

"I got all hot and bothered watching you drink a liter and a half of water. Couldn't stand it anymore."

"Not good enough." Arnold followed through on his threat, moving in to kiss her neck. He tried his best to leave a mark before Helga pushed him away.

"You ass! Stop, okay? I'll tell you."

Arnold snickered. "Go on, then."

She jerked her arms away and folded them. "I had to spend 2nd Period listening to Connie and her satellites trade off comments about how they found you "majorly attractive." And they were talking loudly about how they'd consider asking you to the fucking Spring Dance if their dude friends pissed them off. And it wasn't so bad, but then they started on about how they wouldn't mind doing… _stuff_ with you and I…. just kind of… hated them after that. And I couldn't even say anything about it." She looked away, clearly frustrated.

Arnold blinked at her. "Really?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"I knew it."

She met his eyes again. "What?"

"You felt… possessive of me."

"I wouldn't put it like _that_."

Arnold was smiling widely now. "No, no, you did! You had to come find to me and claim your territory."

"Fuck off, Shortman." She was scowling, but her face had reddened.

"Admit it. You care about me."

"This will get you literally nowhere."

"I knew you did."

Helga refused to face him.

Arnold cocked his head. He knew her feelings were in there somewhere. And he desperately wanted them to show more. He raised his hand to caress her cheek. "You know, I care about you too. It won't embarrass you if you say it."

She obviously tried to retort, but it took her a moment before she could get anything out. She could only look at him longingly before her words spilled out.

"Y-you are so damn sentimental."

He smiled. In her language, this was basically a confession.

Then, something dawned on Arnold.

"Hey… I'm not meaning to change the subject, but I just remembered. Those girls you mentioned… they were gossiping… about me? Like they liked me?"

Helga's face fell into a frown. "… Not the best time to be bring that up again, champ."

She was right. That was pretty bad timing on his part. Arnold stammered. "Crap, I-I didn't mean it that way. It's not for the reason you think. I was just… really confused when you told me. I wasn't aware that some girls saw me that way. Ever."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. No one's ever really approached me, so…"

She was silent.

"Helga?"

"You are _dense,_ man."

Just then, a loud chattering noise sounded from outside of the closet. The two looked at each other in alarm. Both remained quiet, mainly to avoid being detected, but also to better hear whoever's voices were just beyond the door.

"I hate to say it, but she kind of freaks me out." said a voice that was clearly Stinky's.

Another voice, this time it was Harold's, replied, "Yeah. Did you hear what they did to that kid who kept putting garbage in her backpack?"

"He was only a middle schooler!" This one Arnold didn't recognize.

Harold continued. "And now this girl, Mary-Beth, she's told me about how they're running some 'independent contracting' deal, or whatever, with the smart kids. Like, other kids pay them to do their homework. And since they set up the deal, they keep some of the money. Like this weird business set-up thing. "

"That is shady as hell." said the mystery voice.

"I know! I ain't gonna snitch, though. I ain't gonna end up like that one guy." Harold vowed.

Stinky concurred, "Especially her. She's their leader, y'know."

The voices became inaudible as the group moved down the hall. Arnold turned to face Helga, who looked strangely mortified.

"That was weir-"

"I know, right? We should get out of here." She said, coolly.

"What time is it?"

Helga flipped open her phone. "Ten 'til." The glow from the phone screen illuminated her face in blue and caused Arnold to squint his eyes. She began hastily texting someone. Without looking up, she continued. "They're gonna call an assembly pretty soon. How about you sneak out now and stay in the bathroom until they make the announcement? I'll leave right before so our escapes are staggered and we aren't emerging from the same place."

"That sounds good." He was honestly impressed by how quick a thinker she was.

Arnold had his hand on the door handle. She was still fervently tapping away. Before he left, he swooped in with the most loving kiss he could muster. She stiffened, taken aback, but quickly relaxed into him. He parted from her with a grin.

"You're fantastic, you know."

Her soft expression was full of surprise and questions when he last looked at her before he slipped out the door.

Thankfully, the hallway was empty when he stepped out. He walked quickly and quietly to the nearest boys' room, where he entered the first stall and locked it. Once in the real world again, he began worrying about the class he had missed. He had never skipped voluntarily before. He supposed he could fib about where he had been. He could just tell the instructor that he had been in this stall the entire time, sick at his stomach. Sure, he would feel guilty about lying. But had it been worth skipping?

Absolutely.

Though he hoped he wouldn't be tempted to make a habit out of it.


	6. Those Pesky Emotional Barriers

**Pretty chill chapter this time. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story. It means a lot to me. 3**

* * *

The weather was surely warming. Spring wasn't far off and the group was in high spirits. After a good deal of hard work on everyone's part, the fundraiser had met its goal three weeks before the deadline. Helga, Cordelia, Tyler, Phoebe, and Sam, upon realizing this after doing the figures, excitedly whooped and high-fived one another in the library (a commotion promptly shut down by the librarian.) They planned to celebrate by going out to eat that day after class. The sun warmed the air around them, and as they traipsed away from the campus, there was only one thing in the back of Helga's mind that still troubled her.

All of the girls except Phoebe had arrived and were huddled around a booth table at a family pizzeria discussing the little problem in their plans that the freshman Marie-Beth was proving to be. The first one to know had been Cordelia, whom Helga had raced to inform while she was still in the janitor's closet. Of course, she hadn't let on as to where she was at the time. As far as she knew, none of the group was in on her and Arnold's… _thing_ they were doing. Except Sam. Helga had accidentally texted her one night instead of Arnold and swore her to secrecy, which wasn't too hard, seeing as Sam just didn't speak anyway.

She regarded the small girl across the booth from her. Sam was obliviously doing recreational math on her napkin with a pen. Helga wondered if the kid ever really knew what was going on.

They had told Phoebe to meet them at a slightly later time so that they could have this discussion. As much as she loved her friend, Phoebe would never condone the more underhanded operations the group underwent. She could never know, which made it all the more important to quiet Marie-Beth, as well as the people she had told.

Helga, though still collected, was getting a little frustrated with the situation. She massaged her temple as she spoke to Cordelia, "I thought you said you had a plan to keep her from talking about it?"

"I did. I just… maybe hadn't gotten around to it yet. The timing was tricky."

"Well, then." Helga really didn't want to have to beat up anyone over this. It lost its charm after a while. And it was bad for business.

"I can take care of it tomorrow, though, promise. I just need someone to be with me to stage some… theatrics."

"I'm busy tomorrow. Tyler, can you do it?" She wasn't lying. Once again, she was meeting up with Arnold.

The stocky tomboy, who had been taking an enormous swig of soda, slammed her cup down. "Hell yeah! Let's go scare some underclassmen. My cash flow at stake."

 _Always down for anything_. Tyler's reckless zeal made her a pretty reliable friend.

Their operation had been pretty successful so far. For three years, the four of them sought out the kids with the best grades but worst social skills in the school to propose their little deal to. The lure of making money off of their dedication to schoolwork would make the proposal look good, while their shyness and fear would increase the odds that they wouldn't talk about it. The girls would approach only certain people to offer services to; those that were lazy enough to consider it and wealthy enough to pay. Rhonda had been a loyal customer since the beginning, but was touchy. Helga usually handled deals with her.

The client would be charged according to how high a grade they wanted to receive and the difficulty of the assignment, making midterms and finals weeks the most profitable times of the year. The commissioned kid would be given all the information they needed to make the finished assignment look like it was done by the client, as well as specs on the teacher in question and how harsh their grading style was. The entire thing would be mediated by one of the girls, and the client would never know who the contractor was, which keeps the one doing the homework safe from being outed. The girl who set up the arrangement would get to keep most of the cut, with a small percentage going to a treasury of sorts that the group kept for various purposes. The only pressure on the little geeks they worked with was having to meet the grade the client wanted in a class they likely weren't even in.

But for most of them, it was never a huge problem. Unless you were Marie-Beth. Then you would do a shitty job and blame it on someone else. Helga was still pretty pissed about that. Ever since she signed on, Helga had had a bad feeling about her. And look where they were now.

The restaurant's door chime rang. Phoebe entered and scanned the establishment for them. The group stiffened, but regained their cool before she approached the table. Helga did her best to put the situation out of her mind for the time being.

"Hi, guys! Happy fundraiser!" The booth not being big enough to seat five people, Phoebe pulled up a chair from a nearby table and sat down. "I guess I'm late! Sorry. I've just gotten out of tutoring."

Tyler shook her head in mock scorn. "Don't let it happen again, kid"

Helga flagged down a waiter so Phoebe could get a drink. "You're not late, but we did already order. Don't worry, we only got veggie toppings."

Phoebe, who had recently devoted herself to vegetarianism, looked pleased. "Oh, good!"

After the waiter took Phoebe's drink order, Cordelia cocked her head at her. "I didn't know you had a tutor. Didn't think you needed it."

"Oh. No, sorry, that was poor phrasing on my part. I stay after sometimes to tutor people in my Calculus One class."

"That makes more sense." Cord laughed inwardly.

"So!" Helga announced merrily, letting her good mood show. "Congratulations everybody! We sold over $1,200 worth of garbage food to high schoolers! That's a crazy amount of money, but I guess no one feeds these kids properly or whatever."

"And we finished early!" Phoebe added, excitedly. "Remember when we first applied for it? The Vice Principal didn't believe we'd even come close to the goal in time!"

"Cord, update us on the money." ordered Helga.

"I dropped off the first $600 a few days ago, because we really shouldn't just have that amount on us at any given time. And I _could_ hand them the rest tomorrow. But Mr. 'Bigshot VP' Heraldine is out of town until next week. I was thinking of keeping it in the safe over the weekend so I could hand it to him directly on Monday. Just to rub it in a little."

"Your safe?"

"Yeah. The one with Daddy's shotguns." She made a gesture as if she were cocking a firearm.

"That is hilarious. Okay, I trust you. Just please be careful. 600 isn't a _ton_ of money, but it would be a pain in the ass to replace."

Tyler eyes went wide as she suddenly remembered something. "Dude! I have to tell you! This one skinny kid who bought from us was freaking me out. Every day, precisely at ten in the morning, he would buy five bags of those cheesy potato chips. Then he would disappear. Ten minutes later, he shows up, buys another five bags. I swear he was eating all those chips hiding under the bleachers.

Cordelia nodded. "Oh yeah, that's Malnourished Nathan. He probably helped us meet half of the entire goal on his own."

Phoebe raised her brow inquiringly. " _Malnourished?_ "

"Well, the name used to be because he was literally never fed at home, so he did all of his eating at school. Because school food was so scarce and kind of shitty, he got super thin. Now the name is just for irony. The dude's stomach is bottomless." Cordelia explained.

"That's kind of sick." Helga scrunched up her face in disgust.

"Say, Helga." Tyler twirled her silverware. "This just occurred to me: why so busy after school these days? You seem to have other plans more often than usual. You ain't getting into trouble?" She grinned slyly.

"You caught me." Helga held her palms up. "I'm part of a highly controversial team of mercenaries. We'll shoot anyone for the right price." Phoebe and Sam giggled.

"Haha, you sure you don't wanna tell? If it's a date, I know of some pretty hot places to go."

"I wish it were. Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to say. It's more of a private thing. But I can tell you that I'd rather be elsewhere."

"Then just skip, dude." Cordelia suggested.

"It's crossed my mind. I'll let you guys know if I can get out of it."

"Good."

Tyler hadn't been the first to ask about her frequent disappearances. The others had asked similar questions. And she had responded with various excuses. The entire cover was proving to be a little troublesome. But Helga had grown skilled at making sure all of her lies paralleled one another after many years of habitual fibbing.

It wasn't as if she were ashamed of her thing with Arnold. On the contrary. She was pretty proud that she had actually managed to draw his affections over the likes of _Lila_ or other, more popular girls. Those were the sort that had caught his eye in the past, anyway. The fact remained that she just wasn't comfortable with something so personal becoming common knowledge among her peers. Not yet, anyway. Maybe sometime soon, she could open up to Phoebe. Typically, when people were aware of Helga's personal life, she felt exposed and vulnerable. Secrets just felt safer.

The waiter arrived with their order just then. His face was eerily familiar. Then it dawned on Helga that he looked remarkably like Gerald.

Tyler exclaimed upon noticing him. "Jamie-O! How you doing, man? I didn't know you worked here." They exchanged a high-five.

He set the pizza pan on the stand in the middle of the table. "Hey, girl, good to see you! Yeah, you know, this is just a little something I'm doing outside classes at the community college over here."

"Nice. Your folks makin' you do that?"

"Nah, I actually wanted to get off my ass and do something. Makes me look less like a deadbeat. Hey, Pheebs." He nudged Phoebe's shoulder. "It's been a while since you been over. You should stop by soon, we like havin' you."

Phoebe chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, y-yeah."

"You should hear Gerald talk about you. I swear, the only time I will tolerate him going on like that is when he really cares about someone like this." He shot Tyler a wink. "Good seeing you guys."

He left their table to attend to the booth next to them. Phoebe looked unsure of herself. The entire table had gone silent. Helga noticed that everyone's attention was on Pheebs.

"Guys, don't stare. It's rude." Helga broke the silence.

"Sorry." said Cordelia. "We're just worried, dude. Jamie's opinion of Gerald's behavior seems a little different than ours."

"Yeah." Tyler added. "You okay, Pheebs?"

Phoebe opened her mouth to speak. Just then, everyone's phones buzzed audibly. Helga flipped hers out and read the message aloud so that the others wouldn't have to.

 _I am sorry u guys rnt doing so good. :((( Mabybe gerald will stop being so insufferable if we beat him up, lol_

"Thanks, Sam." Phoebe said morosely. "But that's not necessary."

As much as Helga was concerned for her friend and what appeared to be her impending break-up, she was a little glad for it taking the attention off of her plans for tomorrow evening. However, Gerald's recent rudeness wasn't to be excused by the group. Jamie-O's heart was in the right place by mentioning what he did, but they knew that it had only served to make Phoebe feel guilty and more conflicted about her situation.

They followed up the awkward tension with humorous jabs at Gerald's insensitivity. Thankfully, Phoebe's spirits lifted and they moved on to other subjects. The rest of the meal was full of the usual jokes, sarcasm, and disillusionment with society that they typically exchanged. Things seemed to be going well, for the most part.

Helga picked up the check this time. She was feeling generous.

The group separated in front of the building, swapping the customary high-fives. Cordelia lit a cigarette and claimed she was going to get a ride from someone in a few minutes. Tyler and Sam walked off together, having a very one-sided conversation. Phoebe, who had driven her car instead of walking in order to make better time, offered Helga a ride home.

"Assuming you don't have anything extracurricular going on, that is." she added.

Helga chided. "Pfft. What do you take me for?"

"But you do sometimes."

"It's true. But I like to think that I don't. The denial keeps me sane."

They climbed into her tiny gold Honda Accord. It wasn't too shabby, Helga thought. She really needed a car, and as a result of this need, every vehicle she saw was one she wouldn't mind having. And getting one herself was an actual possibility, as she had saved up enough to buy a used one. But wouldn't her own parents notice that a teen with no actual job had managed to purchase a car out of pocket without their aid? Knowing how much attention Bob and Mirriam paid her, she could see herself getting away with it somehow.

Helga pulled down the passenger sun visor. "Hey, if I bought a car, could I stash it at your house? Just so my parents don't see it."

Phoebe shifted gear and pulled out of the parking lot. "I suppose you could park it by the empty lot across the street. Are you going to buy one all by yourself?"

"I might. I'll have to figure out how to deal with the insurance, though."

"Helga, if you leave your car at my house all the time, how will you drive it to school?"

"I wouldn't. I like walking to school. But sometimes I want to go places that take a long time to walk to. And public transportation is great and all, but it doesn't take you everywhere, and you have to wait on it. I'd like to be able to cross town whenever I want. Or leave town altogether. We could go on a roadtrip or something."

"That sounds pretty great, actually. Taking a little getaway this summer sounds nice. But my car wouldn't take kindly to long drives."

"Then it's settled!" Helga slapped her hands on the dash. "I'll buy one that can. We could go be actual tourists in a different town for once, instead of being the locals who are fed up with them."

Phoebe marveled. "Oh, there are so many directions we could go. There's are places only a few hours away that I've always wanted to see! The Chinese botanical gardens in Portland, the Oregon Vortex in Gold Hill. Oh, the Redwood National Park! I've been to that one before, but I really want to see it again!"

Helga looked excitedly at her friend. "You know, Oregon has this crazy UFO festival in May. If school is out by then, we could totally check it out."

"Gosh, now I really want to go and just... explore places. We could invite a fun little group to go with us."

"Yeah. I can ask Cord and Ty if they wanna come along. Maybe even Sam, too."

"… And, you know, anyone else you might want to bring."

 _What?_ That was a peculiar thing for Phoebe to say. It was almost as if she were... _hinting_ at something. "I... don't think a sedan will fit many more people than that, dude."

"Well, just in case you get a vehicle that can. Like an SUV."

Helga furrowed her brow at her friend. "Who else is there to bring?"

"I don't know. A significant other, maybe." Phoebe kept her eyes forward.

"I don't have a significant other."

"You might when we actually go on the trip."

"I… probably won't. There's no one here I'm really interested in."

"Then why are you seeing Arnold tomorrow night?"

 _Shit!_

Helga panicked. Reflexively, she denied everything. Maybe there was still a chance to cover it up.

"Phoebe, what in the hell makes you think I'm seeing Arnold? We're just friends. That's it."

"First of all, you and him hit it off and begin meeting regularly during break. Then, you abruptly cut things off, as if to hide something. Normally, this would imply that it just didn't work out between the two of you. _But,_ coupled with your consistently occupied schedule as of late, it is fair to surmise that you are still seeing him privately.

She rolled her eyes. "Or _maybe_ I like to schedule my free time around interests outside of vapid and fleeting romances. Unlike everyone else our age. My unavailability and his brief communication with me _can_ both occur and be unrelated. I doubt I'm dedicated enough to go to all the effort to secretly date such a drip, anyway."

"Helga, I read Gerald's text to Arnold. About the date."

Helga was shocked at her friend. She gaped. "You _read through_ his messages?"

"N-no, not like that! I didn't deliberately search his texts. Gerald got called into the other room as he was using his phone, so he set it down still open on the table as he ran off. I happened to glance down and… well, see it."

"Okay... so we went on a date. Doesn't mean I'm still seeing him."

"As a friend, I'm telling you that I know about it and that it's okay to give up the charade. I'm not upset, and I'm not going to tell anyone else."

Helga tried to think of a snappy reply, but couldn't. She sat in stunned silence for a moment, taken aback at the finality of Phoebe's words.

"… Damn." Helga slumped in her seat and folded her arms. "Well, there you go, then. The list of people who know keeps growing."

"I'm sorry, Helga. I figured you would never tell me unless I pushed for it."

"Hm."

"I, uh... didn't actually know you were still seeing him, though."

"… What?"

"And Gerald's phone didn't actually say you had gone on a date. But all of the evidence was pointed in that direction, and I figured that if I acted as though I had already found out, you would just come out with it."

Helga stared at her. She didn't know whether to be amazed or apalled.

"Holy shit, Pheebs, I think you're becoming manipulative in my stead." She was almost proud.

"I'm really sorry. I should never have tried to force you to talk to me about it. It was disrespectful and... and underhanded and-"

"Dude, I'm not even mad."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, this is how you guys normally get stuff out of me. I'm not surprised. But you did have me fooled."

"Wow. Well, okay then. Your act was really convincing, too."

"Was it?"

"Yes. Very."

"Did I throw your suspicion into doubt at all?"

"Actually, yeah."

"That's awesome. I should really join Theatre Club."

"Helga, I know you're a very reserved person. You rarely let on details about yourself to anyone. But why hide something like this from your closest friends? We're always here for y-"

"I know you are." She cut Phoebe off, looking out of the window. "But this is _my_ thing, you know? My own little private adventure that I'm having. And no one else has to know about it. I feel really liberated that way. When no one else knows."

"I'm... really sorry, Helga."

"Look, don't worry about it. I knew you were perceptive enough to figure it out on your own. I can't blame you for that. But I'll tell the others when I'm ready. For right now, I like things the way they are. Even if you are in on it."

"Do... do you like him?"

"I mean... sure. Yeah, I do."

"Good. That's more than I can say for mine, anyway."

Helga failed to hold in her laugh. "That's pretty bad, Phoebe."

"I guess. I was thinking of breaking it off soon."

"Darn. I was hoping we could form this weird square of best friends dating other best friends."

"That would be weird." She giggled. "Maybe we can work it out some other time."

Phoebe pulled up to Helga's door. Helga turned to talk to her friend before she left.

"I wish you a clean and painless break-up. You're welcome to come over afterwards."

"I might have to take you up on that. I'll need all the luck I can get."

"And don't worry about exposing my innermost secrets and all that." She grinned playfully. "It only shows that you care. I was honestly impressed."

"I'm really glad you aren't angry. I kind of forced it out of you earlier than you would've liked, huh?"

"Actually, I was planning on telling you pretty soon."

"Really?"

"Yep. You would've been the first to know, of course."

"Thanks, Helga. That means a lot.

"Just don't expect regular updates on the subject or anything."

Phoebe chuckled. Helga exited the vehicle and shut the door to the car, waving as it pulled away. This sort of prying on Phoebe's part wasn't uncommon. It was always a little uncomfortable, yet it was almost necessary sometimes to keep an open line of communication between the two of them. It was an odd system, but it worked well enough. Helga reasoned that it was easier for herself than informing people of things on her own initiative. All in all, it didn't bother her too much in the end. Not when the prying was done by someone she trusted this much.

She climbed the stoop to her door, entered, closed, and locked it. Though she enjoyed the company of trusted individuals, being alone at home was refreshing. She could truly let her guard down here.

Helga decided to snoop around the kitchen for some easy food. She was halfway through scanning the interior of the cupboards when her ringtone sounded, loudly echoing throughout the house.

She received phone calls so infrequently that the blaring of the hook from Gangsta's Paradise emanating from her coat pocket caused her to drop the box of cereal she had been reached for. It tumbled to the floor and the top flaps popped open, scattering colorful grains across the linoleum floor.

She huffed and stood there for a moment, debating on whether or not to actually clean it up as the grainy ringtone pounded her ear drums. When she decided that she could be bothered to sweep up the mess, she dug the phone out of the pocket and flipped it open. Arnold was calling her.

She answered it.

His voice was cheery "Hey! What's going on?"

"You've never called me before. This must be important."

"Not really. I just wanted to see what would happen if I did."

"Well, a couple things."

"Oh?"

"For instance, I've discovered that I haven't changed my ringtone since middle school."

"Oooh, that must've hurt."

"Mhmm. And I spilled my food all over the fucking kitchen because the sheer prepubescence of it sent me into shock." She grabbed a broom and dustpan and began sweeping, with her shoulder pinning the phone to her ear.

"Dear god. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, bonehead. I'm exaggerating." She giggled into the phone.

"I knew that. I meant your kitchen. Do you need help cleaning? Was it pasta?"

"Close. It was cereal. Nothing I can't handle."

"I'm so glad I called. That's pretty hilarious."

"Happy to be of service. Was there an ulterior motive to this call or not?"

"I _did_ want to see what you wanted to do tomorrow. I get discounted movie rentals, just so you know."

She dumped the ruined cereal into the trashcan and made her way to the living room to plop onto the couch. "I dunno. We should just let it be spontaneous. I hate the way planned events feel."

"So we'll just do what we feel like doing at the time? That sounds nice."

"I know. We might not even do anything. I'd be okay just walking around town with you."

"That's pretty romantic of you, Helga."

"Don't get the wrong impression, football head. I'm not the romantic type."

"But just wanting to spend time with someone like that is pretty romantic. Well, I think so, anyway."

"Really? I figured you would find it boring. It's not exactly Dinoland. Or the arcade."

"Nah. It's cute, not boring."

Helga's cheeks warmed. "You don't think _I'm_ romantic, do you?"

"If it makes you feel tougher, then no."

"Good. And it does."

They chatted for some time before Arnold was summoned away for dinner. Helga checked the time and was surprised to see that they had talked for over an hour and a half. She hadn't meant to talk to him that long. But now that she had, she didn't really mind.

She eventually found something in the fridge to re-heat and made plans to occupy the television until she heard her parents car pull up to the house. But during the mind-numbing evening television, her thoughts would occasionally drift back to Arnold.

God, that boy was really turning her into a softie. It wouldn't be long before she couldn't hide that she really cared for him. Though, he could probably _kind of_ tell by now.

How strange it was to feel this way again.


	7. The Date (Or It Was Supposed To Be)

**HEYYYY** **haha sorry for the lack of updates, i can explain! Life has really been rather demanding of my time lately, but I am determined to see this plot through! Thank you so much for reading and bearing with me, ily 3**

* * *

Arnold seemed to appreciate his part-time job at a cozy little video and CD store in Lowertown, as far as Helga could tell. And for teenage employment, it was almost cushy. The store was a very small business that employed maybe five people, with Arnold working his shifts alone most days. The shop boasted a huge collection of offbeat, niche films that Helga had never heard of, most of them being too indie, artistic, and/or foreign to make the mainstream. A slew of CDs and vinyls as obscure as the rest had their own separate display. According to Arnold, the shop wasn't ever very busy, and if he had no other duties, he would usually occupy himself by catching up on homework or watching a movie on the wall-mounted television. This kind of work was automatically preferable to the high stress of the fast-food or retail position most of their peers found themselves in.

The establishment seemed to resonate with a strange subculture that Helga hadn't yet delved into (Lowertown as a whole did too, for that matter.) It was evidenced by the effortlessly grunge attitude of the brick wall interior and the demeanor of the people that frequented it. They were almost all beatniks that had come to absorb the artistic expressions of unappreciated filmmakers. Movie buffs would bump into each other and begin discussing things as esoteric as the qualities of 65 millimeter film. Absent-minded, gaunt-looking college students would pore through the stacks of VHS tapes for ages.

They were all pretentious, of course. Helga could feel them assess her from over their noses and wide-rimmed glasses. If only they didn't stare so much, she might have visited these artsier establishments more often. That was the thing about artists and art connoisseurs, she thought. They were so aloof and indifferent that they drove away everyone who wasn't equally aloof and indifferent. Though, Helga wasn't going to lie, the scene fascinated her.

Arnold himself had become a bit of a movie snob since he started working there and interacting with the store's regulars. His refined taste in media had carried over from music to film. To Helga's relief, this didn't mean that he was incapable of appreciating the simpler humor of mindless TV and movies. But he did occasionally try to expose her to stranger, more cryptic films, most recently _Donnie Darko_ and _Akira Kurosawa's Dreams_. They were deeper, more intellectual movies than most. And though Helga could appreciate them for what they were, they didn't necessarily appeal to her on any level beyond that. She just wasn't engaged.

Thankfully, he understood this about her. And if she prompted him, he was always down for something more attuned to her own interests. They had ended many a night watching kung-fu movies together because of this.

Helga stepped off the city bus not a block from the place. She had her headphones on, playing yet another CD he had let her borrow. It was evening. The city was cast in a dim blue light as the sky darkened. Arnold's shift normally ended at 6 PM on weekends. Her watch told her that it was almost ten minutes 'til. The bus pulled away from its stop, and Helga made her way down the street.

The door's store bell _ting'd_ as she entered. There were only two patrons perusing the collections on a weekend night. She slipped off her headphones. An experimental, yet approachable hip-hop track was playing. Arnold wasn't behind the counter, which implied that he was in the back room of the store. Helga didn't feel as though she was yet privileged enough to intrude that space, so she leaned her elbows against the counter and analyzed the storefront.

The walls were layered with artfully designed posters and album art. The two dudes browsing the shelves couldn't be more different from each other. One of them was incredibly wide. Though his hair was long, he was very kempt and clean looking, his clothing almost business-casual. The other was lanky, slouching, and disheveled. And a little creepy. Helga didn't feel inclined to speak to either of them.

She waited there for a time before noticing a small service bell on the counter. She tapped it. Scuffling could be heard from the back before Arnold poked his head out of the doorway in the rear of the room, his face lighting up upon seeing her.

"Hey!" He stepped out, lugging a case of records. "Sorry, I was doing some inventory right before I left. I'll finish it tomorrow, though."

A small grin escaped her as she watched him approach. His sleeves were rolled up, and his button-down looked almost professional on him. It was a nice sight.

"How was your day?" She asked as he placed the box on the counter.

" _So_ slow." He rolled his eyes. "But that's okay. It makes me look forward to the time after all the more.

Helga averted her eyes. "So sappy."

He rested against the tabletop. "How was yours?"

"A bit boring. Read a book. Avoided human contact until now."

"You came out of isolation for me? I feel rather special."

"You should. I don't get out for just anybody."

He was smiling. "I have to close the register, so just hang out for a bit. I'll get you when I start locking up." Arnold winked.

The scruffy punk-looking guy had approached the front, clutching a VHS tape. Helga sidestepped to make way for the transaction. The two apparently knew each other and began chatting about the movie he had brought to the counter.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, she sidled back out of the front doors. Had he glared at her just then or was that just how his face was? Sometimes she thought it might actually be nice to smoke if it meant having an excuse to be by herself from time to time. She leaned against the wall of the storefront, put her music back on, and thought about Cordelia. The underage smoker was supposed to be pulling some kind of scheme to put Mary Beth in her place right about now. Helga didn't care to know what it was (it was probably better that way,) but whatever it was, she hoped that Cord would let her know what was up as soon as it had happened. She was itching to text her first, but one never knew what kind of situation could be compromised by a phone's text tone going off. She mentally kicked herself for not asking yesterday if texting was okay.

She had the CD turned up so loud that she hadn't caught the gradual approach of two figures from down the sidewalk on her side of the street. Upon spotting them, she recognized the two silhouettes unmistakably as those of Gerald and Harold. She didn't catch them in her peripherals until they were too close for her to duck back into the store without them noticing. Not really knowing what to do, she continued to hang out.

The two boys' chatter became more distinct as they got closer, Helga now painfully aware of them. She could feel Gerald's eyes as he walked up to her.

"Pataki." He said indifferently. "Are you waiting for Arnold or something?"

She lifted one of the speakers off of her ear. "What?"

"I said... 'Aren't you waiting for Arnold?'" He repeated. Harold stood sheepishly to the side. (Helga found his fearful wariness of her hilarious, especially because of how this conflicted with the outward masculinity that he and his quarterback status tried to achieve.)

"… No. Why?" She glanced behind her at the video store. "Does Arnold work here?"

"Girl, cut the crap, I know you are."

"You _think_ you know. Dude, look, I'm just waiting for the bus."

"Then why are you over here and not at the bus-stop?"

"There's a really creepy guy in it. See?" Helga gestured over to it, entirely improvising.

Sure enough, there was a strange, sick looking man in a long coat waiting there. _A happy coincidence._

Gerald narrowed his eyes. "Okay, I see your point. But yeah, Arnold works here on Saturdays. Should be getting off pretty soon now, actually." He noted, checking his watch. He turned inquiringly to Harold, "You wanna see if he wants to come with?"

 _Does Gerald know about Arnold and I yet? Like, beyond our first date?_ Helga was pretty sure he didn't. And she knew for a fact that Harold was still oblivious. But If they encouraged Arnold to join them for whatever romp they were going on that evening, as honest as that boy was, surely there was no way he wouldn't tell his best friend that he already had plans with the girl waiting outside. And after she had so obviously lied to cover it up? It'd be too embarrassing.

So what? Does she come out to them now to save face? Does she stitch together some tall story about having overheard his plans with a broad from the next school district over with the hope that they wouldn't bother? Does she ditch the scene entirely? Her mind raced, so determined to work out all of the factors that she didn't have time to act before the two boys brushed past here to push open the doors to the building.

They were inside. _Dammit_.

She sighed. Helga didn't think she could bring herself to stand Arnold up just because his friends had decided to insert themselves unknowingly into what was meant to be their night together. She shifted on her feet in frustration for a moment before slumping back against the wall. Though she desperately didn't want to stick around to see Gerald's smug and critical expression once he knew, she couldn't just _leave_.

She'd wait for Arnold. It's what he would do. A few more names could go on the list of people who knew. It would be okay.

A few minutes passed. The door swung open and one of the customers, the one who had glared at her earlier, left hurriedly. Moments later, the second customer filed out, followed by Gerald and Harold. The two waved their goodbyes to Arnold through the open door and proceeded down the street without so much as a glance her way. She looked on curiously, their indifference puzzling her.

Helga could see the lights shut off inside the building. Not long after, Arnold finally stepped out, shrugging a coat on.

"Sorry about the wait." He chimed, locking the door behind him. "You okay?"

"It's cool. And yeah, I'm good. What did they want?"

"They were gonna go meet up with some of the guys from the football team. Practice had just got out, evidently." He smiled as they began walking the direction opposite the other two had gone. "Not really my scene, though."

"Ha. Yeah. It would've blown anyway. They're all pretty douchey."

"Well, I mean… It's true, but that's not really the reason I declined. I sort of had a prior engagement to get to, y'know." The boy was grinning. He grinned a lot at her, she had noticed.

"Uhm..." She hesitated. "… Is that what you told them?"

"That I had somewhere else to be? Well, yeah."

Helga shook her head. "With me, though."

"Oh. No, why? You think I'm gonna blow our 'cover'?"

"I-I just had it in my head that you'd be perfectly frank with Gerald for some reason…"

"Pfft." He nudged her playfully. "Give me more credit than that. We're best friends, but I don't have to tell him _everything_." He rolled his eyes while saying the word. "Especially because I know you wouldn't be comfortable with it."

 _Holy shit_. Helga could only stare forward for a moment as they traipsed down the sidewalk. _I think he_ gets _me._

"I, uh… guess I like that about you, Shortman." She admitted.

Arnold seemed satisfied by this reaction. Though, a second later, his expression suddenly changed as if something had dawned on him, and he turned to her to ask, "But you're down to walk around together, out in public?"

"It doesn't matter if _strangers_ see us, dude."

"Yeah, but anyone could see us. We could bump into a number of people who know either you or me."

Helga was silent for a moment. This possibility had crossed her mind a few times before tonight. She had wondered why it hadn't bothered her as much as it ought to.

"… Fuck it, then." She stated casually.

Helga saw Arnold's face light up at her carefree and discourteous answer. It was a look he got when he felt adventurous, she had surmised. She raised a brow at him, amused.

"Well then, if that's how we're doing things," He began, "How would you feel if we did this?" He reached around her back to clasp his hand to her waist, pulling her against him as they continued walking. Helga found herself caught rather off guard.

"Oh! Uh…" She wasn't able to disguise her smile. "Yeah. This is good."

"You're down with being seen like this?"

They had walked along the walk far enough that they had arrived next to a small fenced-in park. A light breeze rustled the trees overhead, silhouetted against the dusky atmosphere. The street was cast in a brilliant orange by the streetlamps that had just recently flickered on.

"Are you... testing boundaries?"

"But _are_ you?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Works for me."

"Then how do you feel about this?"

Helga had had a snarky reply ready for him, but it would be long forgotten. In one fluid motion, Arnold had swung around and wrapped his arms around her, hoisting her off of her feet.

"Ah!" She cried, genuinely surprised.

He spun her around and around in the nearly empty street, her legs flying out from under her. Helga felt her ballcap lift from her head and her hair whip freely about. Before her, the unfocused cityscape was a horizontal stretch of bright, colored streaks against the cool, inky night and looked wholly unreal, almost mesmerizingly so. She could feel the hearty laughs emanate from Arnold's body and into her own chest, but there were other peals of laughter echoing off the storefronts that she didn't recognize at first. It took Helga a moment to realize they were hers.

She felt herself being lowered, slowing to a stop as her feet caught the ground once again. The two stumbled on the pavement, still clutching one another. Helga was pleasantly light-headed as she regained her balance, and Arnold drew her in in an attempt to support her. He met her gaze with a sheepish, adoring grin.

Helga felt her cheeks flush. "Ah.. ahaha. I, uh… didn't expect that."

"Heh… Sorry."

"No, no. You're a… a fun guy, Arnold. Yeah." She couldn't stop a rather awkward smile from spreading across her face.

"Think so?" Arnold knelt to snatch up the little fallen ballcap and gingerly fit it back over her head.

"... Uhuh." Normally, during something like this, she would've broken eye contact this intense and drawn attention to something else. But for some reason or another, she hung on. He seemed so happy. She liked seeing that.

"Where were we even walking to?" She asked absentmindedly.

"No idea." He replied, still focused on her. She noticed a twinge of nervousness flit across his expression as he cleared his throat. He shuffled his feet and seemed as though he was focusing on mentally preparing his words. _Oh god, he's acting like he's about to confess something._

Arnold finally began, stammering, "Can… Can I tell you s-"

He was interrupted before he could even begin. Helga's ringtone cut through the evening air like a crying child in a church building. Her ringtone (which had since been changed from it's former to a psychedelic track by the band Love. Something that Arnold had shown to her, of course) blared, barely intelligible from her pocket. She fumbled to retrieve it and at last flipped it open to read the contact name.

"Holy shit, it's Cordelia." _She's_ calling _her? That can't be good._

Helga looked back up to him with the most apologetic face she could muster. "She wouldn't be calling me if it weren't important. I-I'm really sorry, dude, I gotta take this."

She turned away to answer the phone, a last glance at Arnold showing him to look rather deflated. But this _was_ important, and as convenient or inconvenient as the timing may have been, she knew she sincerely wasn't using this as a means of escape. Feeling justified, she hit the answer button.

"Cord, what's happening?"

" _Helga? Fuck, dude, I just got mugged!"_

"You _what?"_

" _Yeah, I'm at… uh… the corner of Labelle and Court Street. You got any transportation right now?"_

"Cord, are you alright? Are we gonna take a trip to the hostpital?" At this, Helga could see at the edges of her vision that Arnold's eyes were now wide with alarm.

" _No, I'm fine, don't worry. But you're not gonna like this other thing… They, uh, took some of the money. From the, uh… fundraiser."_

"Wh-... how much? Wait, why did you even have that on you? You told me-"

" _Yeah, I know, I know, I screwed up. It wasn't a lot. I'm like… 50% sure that is has something to do with the Marie-Beth bitch. But I'll tell you the details in person, alright? For right now, I really don't like being here by myself. And we need to talk."_

"Fuck… Do your folks know? They could probably pick you up faster than I could."

" _Man, they don't need to know what part of town I'm in. They'll flip. And no, they don't. You were the first one I called."_

"Okay. Then, we're on our way now. Should be like... twenty minutes or so from here, probably."

"Alright, I'll be waiting in that first shady dive on the corner. Wait, Helga, who's 'we'?"

Helga hung up before having to explain Arnold to Cordelia with Arnold standing right there. She would text her the situation in a minute. She quickly explained her friend's predicament to him.

"Let's get in the Packard. I left it parked behind the video store."

"Oh, thank you, Arnold." She embraced him before they began hurrying back up the street. "I'm kinda sorry, though. We hardly stepped outside before-"

"Don't be sorry for this! Her safety is _way_ more important."

Helga nodded, pulling out her phone once more to get back to Cordelia,

 _Sorry for reflexively hanging up. My friend is gonna drive us in his car. He's cool, but we can't let him know anything if we're gonna talk about MB._

She received a prompt response.

" _Friend" huh? did my role as the physical assault victim interrupt something? ;)_

Helga sighed.

 _You stop that._

Arnold spoke up as they approached the vehicle. "You know, our night doesn't have to be over after this."

"I mean… it _might,_ depending on if she needs me." She said as she tugged on the door handle. Arnold hadn't yet unlocked the car and had instead joined her on the passenger side.

"Yeah, you'll probably want to stay and comfort her."

"Well, who knows? We'll just have to see."

He had approached her, putting his hands around her waist. His face was rather close to hers now. Helga held his almost challenging gaze.

She ventured quietly, "You were going to tell me something before?"

"Later." He answered under his breath just before pressing his lips to hers.

She couldn't keep her heart from lightly fluttering. They had kissed before, but it had all been sensuality for sensuality's sake (and, admittedly, a result of her own desire to postpone a deeper emotional connection.) She didn't think she'd ever been properly _romanced_ before.

She had to gently nudge him away to get him to part from her. Once they did, Arnold was smiling again.

"We should really go. We're expected." Helga reminded.

"Ahh… right."


End file.
